


A Different Kind of Magic

by mizushirazu



Category: Final Fantasy XV, Final Fantasy XV: The Dawn of the Future
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Comfort/Angst, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, mentions of physical mutilation, mentions of sexual abuse/rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:33:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 52,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26128084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizushirazu/pseuds/mizushirazu
Summary: You, a gifted healer from a noble family, and the Shield of future King, Gladiolus Amicitia, got somewhat close just as he was about to leave with prince Noctis and his friends to Altissia. Long night that followed after prince's disappearing left you in a very bad place with no way of escaping, forcing you to cling to every single means of physical and emotional self-preservation you could find. Ten years later, as a new day dawns over the World of Ruin, you return to what remains of the kingdom that you used to call home, Lucis, in search of a new starting line.Warning: Contains endgame spoilers. Takes place in The Dawn of the Future novel AU (a.k.a. almost-everyone-is-alive-and-well-au)
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Reader, Gladiolus Amicitia/Reader
Comments: 47
Kudos: 48





	1. Not This Time

“So… about your plans for the night…,” he starts with that deep husky voice of his and leans a bit closer. Not by much, an inch or so, but it still makes your body painfully aware of his presence. Good thing you wear that long-sleeved dress; otherwise he’d notice goose bumps scattered on your forearms.

“What about them?” you ask, fluttering your long eyelashes at him. There’s only so much eye contact you can avoid before you’ll come across as uninterested which is the opposite of what you really are when it comes to the guy sitting next to you.

Bad move. You feel your insides twist and turn when you gaze into those intense amber irises. You can’t shake off the feeling you’re going to be sick.

_Girl, why are you so bad at this_!

You criticise yourself in your head.

It’s been a while since the last time you decided to hit the bars, made an actual effort to look good and went out to socialise with people. It’s not like you are too introverted to go out regularly, no. You simply are one busy lady.

As the only daughter of House Salvia, Insomnia’s respected family of healers, you always have your hands full of duties as you help your parents run the capital’s biggest hospital and some other sister facilities. There’s always a lot of work to do with the seemingly never-ending conflict between the Kingdom of Lucis and the Niflheim Empire. Just today you’ve witnessed a young family saying farewell to their mortally wounded father, a member of the Crownsguard. It broke your heart and, unfortunately, these heartbreaks were too common these days in your line of work.

No wonder you needed a break, a glass of wine or something stronger, and decided to put on make-up for that occasion though in reality it’s just to hide the redness around your eyes - a clear sign you’ve cried a river today. All and all, it’s not one of your best days; you’re feeling exhausted both physically and emotionally and all you wish for is to get drunk to forget today’s sadness, so…

… So how the hell have you managed to attract attention of that one guy from the whole wide Kingdom of Lucis you’ve been secretly crushing on for years?!

“Hey, are you even listening to me?” Gladiolus Amicitia furrows his eyebrows at you. Judging from your empty expression you’re either uninterested or just really awkward.

“Eh?” you jerk a little, the memory of a small boy crying over his dying father from today quickly dissolving in your head. “S-Sorry, I had a rough day,” you admit and let out a little sigh. You question yourself if it’s ok to let your guard down for once. Oh, you are a true fortress when it comes to men’s advances.

“Really?” the tone of his voice chances from frustrated to concerned, although you’re sure it’s just a part of the flirting game. You’re not good at it, you don’t know all the rules, but even you know better than to expect genuine concern from a ‘random’ guy in a bar.

“Wanna tell me about it?” asks Gladiolus as he watches the upper line of your lips. Your cherry red lipstick is slightly smeared on the right side of your mouth, but he’s going to keep it a secret from you - for now.

“No, not really. Sorry,” you apologise only to regret it straight away. You really need to make up your mind about what you want from this situation. It feels like you’re a rubber ball bouncing between two walls of ‘let’s get to know him’ and ‘I’m too much of a mess for this tonight’.

“That’s a shame,” he sighs and takes a sip of his whiskey. “I think I could make you feel better.”

“Yeah?” you raise your eyebrows at him, knowing all too well where this is going. Your eyes follow his jaw line to his Adam’s apple and stop on the little you can see of a tattoo adorning his chest. “How?” you mumble and feel your mouth water at the sight in front of you.

He shifts on his barstool, further closing the distance between your bodies. Your senses are attacked by the warmth his body radiates, the intriguing mixture of his cologne and sweat, and the tantalizing chuckle that escapes his throat. Your poor heart beats against your chest like a wild animal trying to escape the confines of its cage. Only two more inches and he’ll bury his nose into your hair for Shiva’s sake! You silently thank the gods for letting you sit down in this situation, because at this point your bones have all turned to jelly.

“Well, you could come to my place and I’d show you,” Gladio offers and your brain flips a coin to decide if this cheap tactic is something that could work on you or not. Before you make the decision, you hear a quiet snickering from a table behind you.

Oh. Oh yes, you’ve almost forgotten about them.

“Will your friends tag along?” you peel your gaze off of the eagle on his chest, let it pierce into his skull instead and nod slightly towards his three buddies sitting at their table and obviously enjoying the show.

“Tsk,” he hisses, gives them the evil look and shoos them with his hand as if they were a flock of chocobo chicks. You grin at his company and greet them with a small flicker of your dainty fingers. The cute blond waves back at you as if his life depended on it, the dark haired boy’s grin mirrors your own, and the serious-looking young man with glasses directs you an amicable nod.

“Well?” you purr as you look back at the Shield of the future king. His perplexed expression summons a pleased smile to your face.

“Sorry about them,” he mumbles and much to your chagrin leans away. The suffocating yet pleasant feeling of being so close to him evaporates and you can breathe freely again. “I didn’t expect to run into a girl that’d pique my interest tonight,” he admits as if the presence of his friends was some sort of miscalculation on his part.

“Oh?” you squeak a bit before thinking your reply through. The part about his interest has really got to you. Amused by your reaction, Gladio looks at you. “I-I mean…,” you stutter quickly in a desperate attempt to save yourself, “the more the merrier, right?”

This is it, the part where you’d grab your sorry behind and throw yourself out of the bar if you could. Just what on Eos are you hinting at?! You can only pray he doesn’t latch onto the ambiguity of your words.

“Heh,” he grins and bares his teeth at you. You’ve screwed up. “Is that what would make you feel better?” Gladio wonders and leans in closer than ever before. The way you see it, there are exactly three choices for you to pick from.

Run.

Fight.

Submit.

Well, you can’t be too easy or too much of a wuss, can you? Therefore you opt for the middle option.

“Actually, I tend to go for guys with glasses, care to introduce me to your friend?” you hum sweetly and lick your lips as you’ve forgotten you’re wearing a rather cheap lipstick that smears like there’s no tomorrow. Gladiolus chuckles at now rather obvious smudge on your upper right lip. Yes, this girl is definitely interested. Too interested and too awkward, Astrals bless her.

“Glasses you say, eh?” he smiles at you and takes notice of the blush scattered all cross your cheeks and nose. “How about I hook you up and you two let me watch afterwards?”

You gasp for air at the proposal and your eyes widen so you look like a startled doe in headlights. Gladiolus patiently awaits your answer and watches your face with curiosity in his eyes.

“D-Do I get to see your tattoo?” you inexplicably babble out the first thing that comes to your mind before your self-censorship comes out to play. Gladio’s lips twitch as he’s trying to kill laughter that’s about to burst out of his lungs. “Oh no, I shouldn’t have said that,” you gulp and look at him apologetically.

“Don’t worry about it, babe.” His voice drizzles like honey and it’s doing unholy things to you. “So? We’ve got ourselves a deal?” he asks you and brushes a stray strand of your hair away from your face. “The full view of my tattoo included. And more,” he whispers sweet promise into your ear, enveloping your whole body with heat in the process. To toy with you even more, he raises a hand to your face and gently rubs the smeared lipstick off with his thumb. “Well?” he nudges an answer out of you with a suggestive hum.

“Pe-perhaps,” you almost moan and feel courageous enough to place a hand on his chest as a precaution to what might come next. At this point you couldn’t care less about your fate. It was too much.

Gladio snickers in amusement. If only Specs knew he became a part of the deal. Of course Gladio wouldn’t let Ignis participate in whatever he might have in store for you unless the tactician insisted, but…

The string of his plotting is abruptly interrupted by a loud ringing noise coming from your immediate vicinity. It must be your phone, guessing from the way you jump up nearly head-butting his face and start to rummage through your handbag. Glancing at the screen, you excuse yourself as you accept the call:

“Sorry, I really need to take this.”

You notice Gladio’s disappointed sigh as he gives you some space and drinks whiskey while you chat with one of your father’s employees who sounds equal parts relieved, alarmed, and apologetic.

It’s your night off but as usual you’ve requested to be contacted if something major happened. This time an elderly lady, a close friend of your family, apparently regained consciousness after a few days of sleep. You really need to be there for her and thus the game is over for now.

You end the call with a promise you’re on your way and shove your phone back into your handbag, pulling out your money and placing a five hundred gil note on the table.

“What, you’re leaving already?” Gladio mumbles, unable to hide his disappointment. Something’s changed about you. As if someone flipped a switch, you’ve turned from an adorable blushing mess into a serious businesswoman.

“I’m really sorry,” you heave and get on your feet; your bones have solidified again, perfect! “I need to return to work, a patient needs me. Well, maybe we’ll get a chance to continue next time, Mr. Amicitia,” you smile at Gladio and gently pat his broad shoulder. Then you lean down and whisper in his ear: “Don’t worry about the tattoo, I’ve seen it already.”

“Huh?” Gladio recoils from your words and stares at you as you wave goodbye at his friends and leave the bar in a hurry.

Finishing your abandoned half-empty glass of wine, he grabs his whiskey and returns to his friends.

“Heheh, didn’t go as planned, Big guy?” Promto snickers at him. He doesn’t even bother to hide how pleased he is you’ve escaped the clutches of his friend. Gladio is always so natural around ladies and it makes Prompto rather envious. Seeing things not quite work out for the charmer once in a while feels _great_.

“Shuddup,” mumbles Gladio and sits back on his chair between Noctis and Ignis.

“I bet she got a call from a friend. You know, to save her ass from you,” Noctis proposes his idea what has really happened and snickers along with Prompto.

“She mentioned her work,” he makes excuses on your behalf and sighs. Your comment about his tattoo still bothers him. “I wish I got her number. And her name,” he growls. Ignis and Noctis exchange all-telling smirks.

“Come now, you haven’t even asked what her name was?” Ignis wonders and taps his fingers on the table. Gladio glares daggers at him.

“Iggy, not you too,” he warns the tactician.

“Yeah, Gladdy, you’re such a show-off and then you make such a beginner’s mistake, just like that,” shakes Prompto his head and snaps his fingers in a swift motion. “Shameful.”

“Promto, I’m warning you.”

“Well, wanna know her name?” Noctis grins at his friend, “I’m willing to tell you - for a price.”

Gladio looks at him, visibly confused, and that’s when it finally clicks. All the hints about your patient, his tattoo you’ve already seen, and the simple fact you’ve called him by his surname, all that suddenly makes sense.

“Ah shit, that was that lassie from House Salvia, wasn’t it. (Y/N) Salvia,” he heaves and collapses in his chair.

“Bingo!” cheers Prompto and claps his hands. Noctis joins in. And Ignis too. What a lovely applause of shame.

“Honestly, I’m shocked you couldn’t tell,” the prince mocks him, “every member of the Crownsguard knows her. She’s more of a piece of furniture than an employee, always there.”

“You can’t say that, Noct,” Ignis smiles, “but yes, she is quite hard-working indeed. It’s rare to see her somewhere else than within the hospital premises.”

“In the great outdoors,” Noct ponders.

“Outside her natural habitat,” Prompto adds up and all three of them share a light-hearted laugh at the expense of Gladio’s obliviousness.

“Yeah yeah, laugh away,” he mumbles and finishes his glass of whiskey. “Last time I saw her I thought she was a ghost or something.”

“Yeah, she was there when they patched you up recently, wasn’t she,” Noctis shrugs and decides to give his Shield a break. “That time you were barely conscious, so… kudos to you I guess.”

“Gee, thanks. Generous of you, Your Highness,” Gladio growls and signals to the bar to get another glass. “Man, I don’t remember her being this cute…”

Noctis and Prompto look at each other.

“She’s alright, I guess?” the prince comments dismissively. Just as Prompto opens his mouth to bicker about the tone of Noct’s voice, Ignis jumps in.

“Well, Gladio, I think an apology is in order,” he looks at the dark haired sulking man.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll apologise later. Call her or something,” Gladio sighs as he rubs his temples.

“You’d better. She could probably stab you with a scalpel if you cross her,” Noctis grins and watches a waitress bring Gladio a fresh glass of whiskey.

“Thanks,” Gladio moans and goes back to sulking.

What a mess-up. Well, serves him right for trying to woo a girl when he’s supposed to be drinking with his buddies. His thoughts return to that sloppy smear of your lipstick and the fact that a few years ago your families were briefly discussing a possibility of an arranged marriage of their eldest children, namely Gladiolus and you. He remembers how much he complained back then, although now he admits to himself he could probably put up with it. Maybe.

*

It is way past midnight when you finally get back to your apartment. Not bothering with lights, you stumble into your humble abode, kicking your heels away and nimbly unzipping the dress you have on; only the Moon bearing witness to your naked form as you undress each and every piece of your clothing till there’s nothing left. Hopefully you’ll have enough time to clean the mess in the morning before your parents turn up for their planned visit.

Soft covers caress your skin and send pleasant shivers down your spine when your exhausted body crashes into your mattress. You force yourself to feel accomplished after your evening visit to the hospital, but all you can think of is that dark haired man; Ifrit curse him and his thick eyebrows! Desperately trying to recollect the scent of his skin, you reach out for your phone.

Well, would you look at _that_!

Originally you’ve planned to set up an alarm clock as you always do, before you try to sleep your way through your frustrations. The plan however changes the very moment you notice icons signalling a missed call and a bunch of messages on the screen. Curiously, you open the missed call notification.

“O-Oh,” you gasp when you see Gladio’s full name displayed in front of your very eyes. You’ve had his phone number for a while now due to work related reasons, but you would never expect to receive a call after the chance meeting in the bar. Eager to know more, your fingers slide across the touch screen to read the messages. You gasp again, more softly this time.

_Hey, It’s Gladio. I’m sorry if I mistreated you tonight, I didn’t recognize you till you were gone._

_Can I make it up to you? Next time without the audience._

You turn over so you lie on your belly and bury your face into a pillow to muffle your silly little cheer. Good thing you’re lying down or the sudden giddiness would get the better of you. Taking your time to calm down a little, you carefully type your reply with trembling fingers:

_Perhaps…_

_*_

Perhaps, you met a few more times after the initial meeting in the bar. Perhaps, there were some innocent kisses and holding hands too, along with the heartbreak and separation as the Long Night set in, encasing the world of Eos in the shroud of darkness.

You can’t recall those times very well, as those ten years of the Darkness serve as the thickest of lines separating the days of the past when you still thought you could be happy, from your everyday bleak reality.

Now, as a new day dawns over the World of Ruin, your dark days come to full stop and despite the bright future ahead, you’re left with nothing, broken and lonely. Searching for a new starting line, you return to what remains of the kingdom that used to be your home, Lucis. 

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've recently got into FFXV again and realised there's a whole new story with a whole new HAPPY ending (apparently as it was meant to be before DLC cuts happened?!). While I love the bittersweet ending of the original game for what it is (and for the buckets of tears I cried because of it), I'm a huge sucker for happy endings and enjoy exploring the possibilities of the World of Eos getting restored after the Long night. Also, although I was Ignis stan when I was playing the game for the first time, I found myself falling head over heels for Gladio this time around... huh.  
> This story WILL be smutty - eventually. I like my romances like I like my scented candles - burning very slowly. I'll add tags as they appear/become relevant, including some Archive warnings for stuff about Reader's past.
> 
> Please feel free to leave a comment, they really keep me going.
> 
> One more thing: I'm not a native speaker of English and I'm nowhere near perfect. It's been a while since I wrote anything in English, so I appreciate any corrections of my grammar mistakes and typos.


	2. The Ghost from the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten years later, the circumstances make you end up in Lestallum, where you start rebuilding your life from the scratch. Not long after your arrival you run into some familiar faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There goes 2nd chapter and we find ourselves in post-Starscourge world. Yay! Please enjoy <3

The dawn came so unexpectedly and with it an avalanche of emotions and a waterfall of tears. It had been ten years. Ten long years of darkness and despair, and now it was all behind you as if you just awoke from a nightmare to greet the new morning.

After the new reality settled in, and you all realised it’s not just a cruel dream, you said goodbye to your friends and headed to the only place you could think of. Insomnia, your home, a city you hadn’t seen in ages.

What a shock it was when you tried hitchhiking your way there, only to be stopped by Hunters in the good old Hammerhead gas station. Despite the Long night finally clearing, there were no cars going to Insomnia, because--

Because there was no Insomnia anymore, there’s no easy way to put it.

You could hardly believe your ears. Sure, you’d expected it to be abandoned and ruined after the Niflheim invasion so long ago, but for such a huge city to be completely gone? Unthinkable.

After a bit of prying, you’d learned there was a huge crater where Insomnia used to be. The hunters that shared that information were stingy with details, but from what you gathered it seemed like it was caused by one of the Astrals and their magic.

Speaking of the Astrals and magic, they were gone as well. The Crystal the kings of Lucis guarded for centuries with them.

Yes, you’d felt it, those early hours of the new dawn. You’d been feeling really off, and when you tried usíing your magic to heal yourself, nothing would happen. As the days went by and you still couldn’t conjure a spell, the realisation and the implications slowly settled in:

The Astrals no longer watched over the World of Eos.

You had nowhere to go, and the face you made when the Hunters informed you about Insomnia was so desperate that they quickly offered a ride to Lestallum, the city of Light where most of the humankind lived during the Long night.

It’d been a long time since your last visit to Lestallum and frankly speaking you had no idea what you would even do there. You couldn’t work the power plant like the ladies of EXINERIS Industries and with your magical powers gone you weren’t much more than a mere herbalist. You had no other particular skills either. Grim thoughts of you dying of hunger in some back alley of Lestallum plagued your mind as you approached the city on the back of Hunters’ truck and took in the breathtaking view of the Taelpar Crag.

Those events transpired nearly two weeks ago. You found yourself astonished at the current size of Lestallum. The amount of refugees the city had to hold during the Long night caused construction of new apartment buildings and infrastructure, and it’s only thanks to the construction you were able to secure a very tiny and messy studio apartment.

Now that the Starscourge and daemons were gone, some refugees decided to return to their original homelands and freed some of the living space. Thanks to that you didn’t have to live in a tent in the refugee camp at the outskirts of the city. Still, as a newcomer you got the worst apartment possible, but you knew better than to complain about your situation. With free rent for the first three months, you were more than happy to deal with roaches, lack of fridge, a cracked toilet bowl and a missing mattress. You couldn’t get rid of the salty thoughts about the previous tenant and their questionable living habits though, because it seemed like your neighbours had their apartments in a top-notch condition.

As people were slowly leaving Lestallum, there were quite a few job offers available. Sure, you couldn’t apply for jobs that required a particular skill set or heavy manual labour, but you’ve managed to get a position as a waitress in a small local bar. The pay isn’t that great, but it is enough to feed you and even pay your monthly rent when your rent free period ends.

All that is left to do is getting used to the new reality of your day to day life.

*

You woke up rather early today, which - as you’ve noticed - occurs very often lately. You’ve never been one of the girls who love to sleep long hours, but you aren’t a light sleeper either. The main reason for you waking up so early is the _heat_.

Lestallum was notorious for its tropical climate and it reminds you day after day that you’re not really suited for such weather. It fills you with a certain kind of relief and thankfulness for your job, as you start your shifts in the evening when temperatures aren’t that high anymore. Thanks to that, you can spend most of the daily hours in your apartment - only to think up new ways to remove all the stains that cover your walls.

Unfortunately, the need of refreshment and groceries force you to leave your apartment every morning and today’s no different. You take a deep breath, enjoying the scent of morning haze evaporating in sun rays. No matter how uncertain and stressed you are - and there’s a lot of that lately - things like these never fail to calm you down, even if only by a little. As the soles of your sandals clap against the cobblestone pavement, you head to the city’s market place.

As always, the market place feels really cramped, but you can’t get rid of the feeling there’s fewer people than a week ago. Either you’ve arrived too late in the morning or more and more people are leaving Lestallum. Thanks to the Hunters organization, there’s no shortage of fresh meat and even vegetables and fruits, and with each passing day more goods are becoming available.

You stop in front of a small stand with all kinds of fruit and start pondering if you should choose green or red apples, or if you’d be better off with peaches. Everything is on the cheaper side as the prices are heavily regulated - a measure to ensure no one goes hungry, but there’s only so much you can afford with your salary which consists mostly of meal vouchers. Your diligence is astounding when it comes to making sure you only buy what you can eat to avoid wastage.

“I’ll take two peaches, please,” you make a quick decision when you notice the seller’s patient stare.

“Two peaches it is,” he smiles at you, places two of the prettiest pieces of fruit in a paper bag and hands it to you. “Anything else?”

“That will be it, thank you. I’ll be back for more tomorrow,” you smile back at the elderly man.

“Of course you will,” the seller chuckles and suddenly sprinkles you with well-meant questions, “how are you doing anyway? Living alone? Are you keeping safe?” He can tell you aren’t local AND you’re a newcomer; that’s what makes him ask questions in friendly tone.

_He’s from Lestallum alright._

Only in Lestallum you could encounter friendly folk like that. Although, you have to admit, the end of the Long Night made every surviving person much more cheerful, charitable and compassionate. Nowadays it almost felt like everyone was looking after each other and you find it rather surreal at times.

“E-Eh,” you gulp at first, still quite unsure how to reply without turning into a stuttering loser, “I’m fine, thank you. I live alone, yes.” To somewhat dull that melancholic hue of your words, you quickly continue: “But I’ve managed to get an apartment right after my arrival! It’s not even that bad!”

_Don’t kid yourself, liar… Your apartment is a stuff of nightmares. The toilet is leaking again!_

The man watches your excited expression with a hint of shock and then his smile grows even warmer.

“Your accent… You’re from Insomnia, aren’t you?” he comments, takes another peach and hands it to you. “Take it - for free,” he stops you when you open your mouth to refuse the gift, an obvious expression of sympathy over the loss of your hometown. You close your mouth and allow your lips to form a grin. Oh well, one more peach isn’t going to kill you. “Come back tomorrow, I should have some Duscaen oranges. Usually they sell out fast, but I’ll put some away for you,” the man winks at you, meaning now you’re in cahoots with him. Cahoots in regards to under-the-counter sale of delicious fruit, perfect! It’s important to have a network of friendly connections.

“I’ll make sure to stop by,” you giggle, pay for your peaches, and move to the butcher’s shop.

You buy a single piece of daggerquil breasts and as you whip up your purse, the lady behind the stall starts:

“How about you take this lovely piece of Jabberwork sirloin too?”

“Ja-jabber…,” you repeat after her, nearly dropping your purse to your feet. “Sorry, I can’t,” shaking your head you give her an awkward smile.

“Come on, take it for free! Hunters brought me too much of it and with customers leaving Lestallum it’s gonna get spoiled,” the butcher insists.

“For free?” you gasp. Why on Eos should you take an expensive piece of meat like that for free?! You instantly feel bad for the poor hunter who surely sweated their behind off only to get this exquisite delicacy all the way to this lady’s shop.

“Yes, yes, for free!” she nods and grins at you, leaving you flabbergasted. How do you refuse politely? It’s not like you could make any use of the meat. One extra peach is fine, but a whole jabberwock sirloin?! No way.

“I’m sorry, I live alone and I don’t have a refrigerator to store fresh meat yet,” you say quickly. Your apartment is in dire need of equipment; some sort of cooling unit being the main reason why you buy your groceries only in small portions every single day.

“No?” the butcher lets out a disappointed heave, only to come up with another idea: “Well, you could make a huge dinner party for your friends! Isn’t there a lot to celebrate nowadays?”

“Uh, yes, b-but…,” you swallow your words. A dinner party for your friends?

_What friends?_

The way you see it, you’re all alone in this busy city. You’ve said your goodbye to all the girls you consider friends a few weeks ago, as each of you headed to what was left of your home, and while you know some of them returned to Lestallum, you haven’t met with them yet as you have no means of contacting them. You’d stopped using cell phone long ago.

“Excuse me, would you mind if WE take it? We’ll pay of course,” you hear a cheerful yet kind voice on your right side - in your blind spot. You twitch a little as you still can’t get used to the changes of your field of vision.

It’s been less than a month since you lost your right eye and started wearing an eye pad or an eye patch instead. You still have a lot of work ahead of you before you get used to the loss of depth perception. Heck, you are still trying to get used to the pain that occasionally wakes you up at night.

“Hm? Of course, go ahead. Unless Miss doesn’t take it first,” the lady at the butcher’s stall looks at you.

“O-Oh no, I’m good, thank you. I couldn’t eat it all on my own even if I tried,” you wave hand dismissively and carefully place your modest purchase into a cotton bag you’ve brought with you.

“Great, thank you!” the girl thanks both you and the butcher and turns to her company. “Luna, let’s cook tonight’s dinner, shall we?! We need to prove them we can cook better than Iggy!”

“Yes, let’s give it a go, and pray it won’t go horribly wrong,” the other woman says with a soft chuckle.

You grow pale as your brain processes what you’ve just heard. Luna? Iggy? As in Lady Lunafreya and the Hand of the King, Ignis Scientia? You’ve heard quite a while ago that Lestallum had become the place of residence to the King Noctis and the Oracle Lunafreya for the time being, so it was only a matter of time till you run into familiar faces.

“So it is you, Lady Lunafreya!” the butcher hollers with excitement. You can’t stop yourself from turning to both young women.

Of course you’ve heard the Oracle had been resurrected, and yes, you’ve seen her from afar already, but being so close was something completely unheard of. That’s one of the reasons you find yourself staring at the delicate-looking blonde woman with an opened mouth, wondering if you should express your amazement or gratitude or _something_.

Lunafreya notices your puzzled expression and smiles at you kindly.

“I apologise to barge in like that,” she speaks with a slight nod. “Is it really alright if we buy the meat instead of you?”

“Y-Yes, by all means,” you mutter and swallow to ease the tension in your throat.

“Hey?” the other young woman jumps in suddenly, breaking you out of your daze. “We’ve met before, haven’t we?” she eyes you with suspicion.

You turn your head towards her. As soon as you drown in the amber colour of her eyes, you are absolutely sure who’s standing in front of you. She’s more beautiful, her hair is longer, but there’s no mistaking it - it’s Iris Amicitia.

_What am I supposed to say? Hello?_

You feel your words fail you. You’ve been so careful not to run into anyone who might recognize you. With the line of work you used to do before the King’s long disappearance, it pretty much meant avoiding all members of Crownsguard and many of the Hunters, and that’s just what you were doing each day: disappearing whenever you’d notice someone wearing black clothes. You’ve even given out a fake surname when you had to deal with people keeping track of refugees and new newcomers to Lestallum. You just don’t feel comfortable enough to try and reconnect with people you used to know. Not yet anyway.

However, you had no idea the chance meeting with younger sister of your past infatuation could stir such strong emotions in you. Six, you had no idea you were even capable of feeling something like that after all those years!

“I-I’m sorry, it must be some kind of misunderstanding. I don’t believe we’ve met before,” you babble out quickly and take a tiniest step back.

“No, no!” Iris shakes her head. “I know who you are! We HAVE met before! Luna!” she turns to the blonde who looks partly amused and partly excited. It’s always great to meet someone’s acquaintance!

“It’s Gladdy’s friend I’ve told you about, remember? The one he thought he’d lost! (Y/N) Salvia!” Iris explains and claps her hands.

“Lady (Y/N), I’ve heard so much about you and your family,” Lunafreya smiles at you and instead of nodding she properly bows this time, making you freak out. As a member of a family full of healers, you’ve always felt strange affinity to the Oracle, and having her bow down to you now, at the new beginning, is something absolutely unimaginable. As much as you want to turn back and run away, you can’t show her such blatant disrespect, can you?

“Lady Lunafreya, my apologies for ignoring you before,” you make sure to bow even deeper than her. “Please, there’s no need to call me ‘lady’. I’m just a simple woman now,” you ask her with a sense of urgency in your voice.

“Well, the same goes for me then. My magic is as good as gone now, same as yours,” she winks at you. Your lips flutter a little. It’s not what you were referring to, but who you are to argue with the future queen of Lucis?

“Hah, so it is you, (Y/N)!” Iris grins triumphantly. Giddyness washes over you as you realise how much her smile reminds you of her brother.

“Alright, alright, you’ve got me,” you sigh heavily and try to grin back out of respect to your old friendships.

“Where were you all those years? Gladdy was so worried when you wouldn’t answer his calls!” Iris says and looks at you curiously. She has no real need for your answers. Just one look - that’s all it takes for her to know you’ve been through a lot. The brunette is sure that the soft eye pad on your right eye has a story to tell, if only it had a voice.

“I’ve been… busy, that’s the only way to describe it,” you shrug, smiling sadly. Lunafreya immediately senses there’s something wrong and gently places her hand on your forearm.

“We’re all safe now,” she says with a somewhat powerful voice. “Everything’s going to be alright.”

Iris keeps quiet for a few seconds. She has always come across as a very empathetic young lady to you, and you have no doubt she’s aware of your current mental state as well. She knows very well it’s better to not mention some things in front of you, but you go and coax her into spilling the beans unintentionally.

“H-how is your brother anyway?” you ask Iris just to keep the conversation afloat and maybe lead their attention away from your depressed mood. She looks at Lunafreya and cocks her head to the side.

“He’s currently planning his wedding,” she replies, her answer to your simple question feeling like a bunch of daggers hurled at you. “He met this girl here in Lestallum and they’ve hit it off. They’ve…,” she wants to continue but stops as she realises you’ve grown even paler.

_Come on, say something. What was I expecting anyway?!_

“Oh, I see,” you smile, “well, good for him!”

You could swear this dishonest grin is one of the most physically challenging things you’ve ever pulled off.

“I really should go, I need to get ready for work,” you say apologetically, your decision to run away being too sudden to seem natural.

“I-I’ll tell Gladdy you’ve said hi, ok? He’ll be happy to hear you’re safe,” Iris offers but you shake your head in disapproval so violently it’s about to fly off

“Please don’t, I don’t want to be a bother when he’s planning his wedding, ok? Like some frickin’ ghost of the past that came to haunt him,” you say and your stare means you’re dead-serious. “Promise me, Iris.”

“But…,” she mumbles and then just sighs: “Alright, I promise. But you won’t be able to hide from him forever, you know? Not in this city.”

The jab of her words gets deep under your skin.

“I’m aware of that. I’ll deal with it when the time comes,” you nod, and as you’re about to take your leave Lunafreya stops you with a gentle tug on your wrist.

“Wait, I’d like to present you an offer,” she says and continues once she has your full attention. “We’re working towards opening a new hospital. We’ve got an empty building, beds and furnishing, you name it. The thing is--,“ she’s trying to decide whether there’s any point in continuing. To her relief you look quite intrigued. “There are not enough healers and doctors. With the magic gone, I myself can’t do much besides talking to patients and offering them emotional support and a few words of kindness. However, with the knowledge and skills of House Salvia you’d surely become an asset to the hospital.”

You gaze into her crystal-blue eyes for what feels like a century. The princess emits such resolve it’s almost impossible to refuse her. You nod slightly to acknowledge her proposition.

“Please, allow me some time to decide. I need to think about it,” you reply and force another smile.

“Of course, take as long as you need,” Lunafreya agrees and only then she lets go of your wrist. Her warmth lingers on your skin for a few seconds.

*

You reach your apartment half an hour later with a myriad of thoughts. Opening the padlock on your front door - apparently the previous tenant took the lock with them for whatever reason and you still haven’t got a chance to hire a locksmith to get yourself a brand new lock - you stumble into your nearly empty studio.

You’ve lived there for two weeks now but it still looks quite the same as it looked the day of your arrival, albeit it’s much less dusty. Placing the three peaches safely in the cupboard you use as a pantry, you remove a small bag of rice and turn to the stove to make something to eat using the daggerquill breast you’ve bought at the market. Seeing as you have necessary spices, you decide to make some kind of curry while your mind replays today’s meeting with two beautiful young women.

You try your best to push the disappointment about Gladiolus Amicitia’s engagement to the back of your mind. What were you even thinking? You should be glad he’s alive and apparently in good enough health to get married. Why would you even think things could be like they were when you left them? Ridiculous! It’s been _ten years_!

You painfully bite your lower lip to punish yourself for stupid thoughts as you cut the meat into small cubes. Your injured eye starts to sting again, but this time it’s because tears are asking for your attention. You quickly wipe your healthy left eye with your sleeve and hope the cotton eye pad captures any moisture that decides to make its way through your scarred tear duct.

_Perhaps I should have gone elsewhere. Anywhere._

Placing a knife on a wooden cutting board, you take a moment to collect yourself. You know that you need to pull yourself together - whining about ‘what ifs’ won’t change a thing.

With sheer determination - or is it delusion? - you persuade yourself that the Shield of the King getting married is actually a good for you. Now you can scrap that silly hopeless dreams of yours and concentrate on your own future.

One week. You allow yourself one week to think Lady Lunafreya’s offer through before giving her your final answer. Although, in the back of your mind, you already know what the answer is going to be.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, no Gladio this time :( But Reader learned some shitty information about him, huh. I had to keep this situation from the game in, because, you know, extra drama! The next chapter will be (hopefully) more interesting.
> 
> Originally, I planned for the story to take place in Insomnia, which would be sort of ruined but still inhabitable, but ultimately decided to go with the novel canon which has Insomnia pretty much gone. I have to admit it's also because I like Lestallum. It has a kind of Mediterranean vibe and I really love it. It's also less MASSIVE than Insomnia, which is a good thing. I think.
> 
> Anyway, I'll be happy for any comment or kudo you leave. Thanks!
> 
> PS: Reader's family name Salvia might be a bad move, I've made a typo and typed "saliva" about a million times by now lol


	3. How to Be Invisible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After taking your time to think, you accept The Oracle's offer knowing all too well you'll run into a certain someone eventually. Unlike you some things just don't take much time at all, do they?

Slowly opening you healthy eye in the morning, you immediately fell a bit off. As you crawl out of your bed, you realise you’d overslept due to the soothing spattering of rain outside. Compared to the day before day, the temperature has also dropped significantly. It fills you with more energy than your usual morning cup of Ebony coffee.

Whipping up something to eat for a breakfast and cleaning your place afterwards, you decide today will be the day you seek Lady Lunafreya and discuss her offer to work in the hospital.

As you walk to the building in question, your determination is continually leaving you. Spastically gripping the umbrella handle in your right hand, you reconsider your decision, but there’s not enough time to reach an answer before you reach the hospital. Well, guess you’ll have to improvise.

The hospital lies in a part of the city with high structural damages. Builders and volunteers alike are working each day to remove all the signs of destruction. The origin of the destruction escapes you; you’ve heard rumours about an Astral being the cause of it, and although it sounds in line with what you’ve heard about Insomnia, it still seems really unlikely to you. What on Eos was going on in the last few hours of darkness?

Taking a deep breath as you try to gather broken pieces of your courage before you enter, you hear an excited ‘good morning’ from the window above.

“G-Good morning,” you reply in a slightly startled tone and raise your umbrella a little so you can see the person who greeted you.

Lunafreya is looking back at you as she’s leaning against the window sill on the upper floor, her kind smile as pleasant as the refreshing raindrops falling down on this hot city.

“I’ve been expecting you, come in! I’ll be down in a second,” she says and disappears.

_Well, there goes my last chance to abscond…_

Having no other option now, you enter the building. You quickly pull down your umbrella, leave it in an empty umbrella stand by the door and look around the empty entrance hall. The reception desk on your left hand makes you wonder if this used to be some kind of medical facility or maybe even a hotel before, because it surely doesn’t look like a layout of an apartment building.

Tapping noise makes you aware of Lady Lunafreya as she walks down the stairs in her heels.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she apologises politely, startling you even more. It’s been literally seconds, there was no waiting involved!

“No, no. I guess I should apologise, Lady Lunafreya,” you shake your head quickly.

“What for?” she raises her eyebrows in surprise.

“For taking all this time to think,” you explain and watch as Lunafreya’s expression softens.

“You don’t have to apologise for something like that. I can see how it can be a big decision after the loss of magic. Still, I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t believe your medical skills alone are top-notch.”

You feel your cheeks flush with heat. After all those years you lack the confidence in your abilities and these kind words coming from the Oracle leave a huge impact on you.

“Follow me. We can talk about details in my office,” she invites you further into the building. You’re amused to find the room she calls her office looks more like a tiny tea salon than what you’d expect an office to look like.

“Wow, this is… cosy,” you utter as you follow her prompt to sit down in an armchair.

“Yes, I hear that a lot,” Luna chuckles, “I wanted this room to remind me of my home.”

There’s a strange melancholy in her voice and your mind comes up a whole mountain of questions about current situation in Tenebrae and Fenestala Manor, the home of Tenebraean royal family. Of course, you smother you curiosity because you can’t allow yourself to be nosy. Yes, this room is furnished based on Tenebraean aesthetic indeed, and you don’t even count bouquets of sylleblossoms in vases decorating pieces of furniture around you. Their mystical scent fills you with calm and peace.

“It’s lovely,” you add just for the sake of breaking the silence.

“Thank you,” she smiles at you. “I would ask where you live, but I’ve done my research already. I’m really sorry about that - I couldn’t help myself…”

You let out a surprised gasp. Agreeing to work in the hospital is one thing but you’d rather keep some things private from certain people… Although you’re painfully aware that agreeing to work in the hospital under Lady Lunafreya means you’ll inevitably run into _a_ _certain_ _someone_ sooner or later.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t told anyone about your living situation,” Luna adds quickly as if she was reading your mind, “although I must ask: are you alright living like that?”

You look into her concerned eyes. This conversation reminds you of a similar scenario you were a part of all those years ago when you’d decided to leave family mansion to live on your own. Funnily enough, back then when you first moved in, the toilet bowl of your own apartment was leaking as well and your mother was furious about that.

“I’m fine, Lady Lunafreya,” you reply dismissively, but her worries do warm your heart. “To be honest, I’m not even sure if I want to stay in Lestallum long-term. I guess it’s too… hot for me? I originally planned to return to Insomnia, but I’ve ended up here due to obvious reasons. Still, if reconstructions ever start in Insomnia, I’ll be first in line to go back,” you let out a light-hearted laugh.

“I’m afraid it will take a while. Other regions take priority over the Capital. We’d have to build it completely from scratch,” she sighs and her words make you once again wonder just how bad the damage to Insomnia really is.

“That’s understandable,” you nod and let out a sigh similar to hers.

You then proceed to talk about work. Lunafreya offers you more than what you currently gain as a waitress and - to your surprise - agrees that you’re more than welcome to keep your current job if you desire so. That’s been your wish all along. You know you really need to start saving up as much as you can if you want to move forward with your live - whatever direction that might be.

“One more thing,” Luna ask you when you’ve all but agreed to the job offer. You look at her, expecting some kind of catch in the whole situation, but the princess surprises you with a very personal question.

“Would you mind if I took a look at your eye?” she speaks softly and patiently waits for your answer.

“Uh, sure,” you mumble because refusing her seems a bit too impolite, “but it’s not very pretty.”

After her assurance it’s alright, you slowly take off the cotton eye pad from your right eye, uncovering a scar across your eyebrows, eyelids and upper cheek. It’s mostly healed now, but still quite red and sore.

“May I?” she leans in and carefully places hand on your cheek. Her concerned expression saddens you for some reason.

“There’s not much that can be done now,” you mumble under your breath. “The optic nerve and the retina should be fine - I can see light changes, shadows, shapes and such. But my cornea and lens are injured, so…,” you explain as if you were apologising. “The scar makes it hard to keep the eye open though. It still hurts a lot.”

“Do you always wear an eye pad?” she wonders as she inspects your eye.

“Yes, or a leather eye patch,” you reply and shift slightly in your chair. “Although I keep the eye patch for evenings I work at the bar. It’s a bit uncomfortable because it’s tight. I’ve tried keeping it uncovered, but I guess I’m not confident enough for that. People tend to stare.”

Lunafreya smiles knowingly. However common injuries were due to the Long night, especially among Hunters, for a young woman like you a facial injury of this kind is a big deal for multiple reasons.

You feel a pressing need to explain yourself even further as her pensive silence makes you uncomfortable.

“Still, it could have been much worse,” you babble out, “the person who did this was going for a stab. I’m lucky to be alive.”

“I see,” she comments and her pensive expression gets even more serious.

_Damn, did I really want to say that?_

You’ve really wanted to keep your past to yourself. Only a few people know and that’s alright; it’s what you prefer anyway. Still, you can’t help yourself. What is this feeling, the sudden relief that washes over you? This ease of breathing?

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” Luna suddenly says and it almost makes you jump. What is she apologising for, _again_? “If I still had my magic, I probably could speed up the healing process,” she answers your unspoken questions.

“My lady, with all due respect,” you take a deep breath, “if you still had your magic, I’d still have mine. There are people out there that need you more than I do. Not only your powers - the hope you instill in them as the world’s last Oracle.”

Luna watches you with her eyes wide open and that’s how you know you really should have kept your mouth shut.

“I mean… I appreciate the sentiment, but I can take care of myself and my injured eye. I’m here to help you with those who can’t help themselves, you know?” you quickly add, wondering if it can mitigate your previous rude words.

Luna gives you the widest smile you’ve ever seen on her face - not like you’ve seen many, but it still counts.

“That’s what I wanted to hear. I’ll gladly accept this determination of yours, dear (Y/N),” she says as she squeezes your hand in hers.

*

Thoughts of the chat with Lunafreya follow you all day. Even with her powers gone, you can see why she is - was - the Oracle. The serenity that filled you after the meeting is undeniable. Later that evening, when you put on your uniform, make yourself presentable, even putting on your all-time favourite perfume you managed to find in the market, and head to the bar, you feel so light-hearted it almost feels like you’re not yourself.

“Evening, Mr. Richard,” you announce yourself as you join the middle-aged owner of the establishment behind the bar. He’s one of the reasons you wished to keep this job. He’s so kind to you and it his friendly behaviour gives you a fleeting sense of belonging somewhere.

“Oh, hello darling,” he replies and quickly scans you with his eyes. “You look cheerful today, anything good happened?”

You start washing dirty beer glasses right away and tell him about your meeting with Lunafreya. He was aware of your plan to take up another job and given the nature of it he also was a hundred percent aboard.

“Lucky you, working with Lady Lunafreya… You’ll need to tell me all about it,” he laughs and your voice joins him.

“I will, but I don’t think I appreciate it from the same reasons you would,” you giggle and pour yourself a small glass of beer to get you in the mood for a small talk marathon with customers.

People slowly start flooding in. You and the owner notice there are more customers than usual, which is not really surprising as it’s almost weekend. Still, this bar isn’t the most popular in Lestallum nor it lies in the most tourism-heavy part of the city.

“Asking you to come tonight was a good call,” the boss mutters to you as you both swiftly serve the customers.

“Boss, what about these?” you point at a few empty barstools, “are they coming or not? Chasing away people is getting tedious.”

“No complaining, darling. I’ve told you those were reserved,” he scolds you gently as he serves drinks to a young couple lucky enough to sit at the bar. You look at the empty spots. With the bar this full, these free seats are attracting customers the same way a jar of honey attracts wasp and other insects.

“I just hope they come soon,” you mumble and turn your back to the bar as you start cutting a few lemons for cocktails.

While you mindlessly cut the fruit, your brain starts replaying your conversation with Lunafreya again. You can’t help but feel a little overexcited about tomorrow - that’s when your new work starts. Finally you can prove your usefulness, even though you’re the only person that keeps questioning it. Maybe your life is finally on the way to the better future.

You barely notice the slight change in the background noise of music, voices and tinkling of glasses. The place gets a bit quiet and then louder again.

“Oh, there they are!” your boss announces delightfully. You’d turn around to scorn the latecomers with your judgemental look, but you would risk chopping your fingers off so you decide to finish cutting the lemons first.

“Good evening gentlemen, it’s a real pleasure to host you tonight,” Richard greets the customers as the four men take their seat on the reserved spots at the bar.

“The pleasure is ours,” one of the men replies politely in a clear voice that sounds rather familiar to you. You stretch your spine a little and start paying more attention to what’s happening just behind your back.

“Aw man, was this place always this busy?” another familiar voice asks and you feel your guts twist and turn.

_This can’t be…_

“Not really, Mr. Argentum,” your boss replies and his friendly tone makes you feel even worse. “I guess they all heard you were coming, heheh.”

_Dammit, just my luck!_

“Come on, it’s no big deal,” another guy comments dismissively.

_King Noctis… Just make it stop, ok?_

“Let’s see how long till they start asking for a signature, eh?” the blond man with a goatee pokes fun of his king.

“Quit it, will you?” Noctis sighs. Some things never change, do they?

“How are you doing, Richard? Been a while since the last time,” the last man to speak asks in a deep voice.

 _Here we go. Make me disappear._ You plead silently to whoever might be listening to your thoughts. You feel like throwing up all over those freshly cut slices of lemon.

“Quite alright, Gladiolus. Thanks for asking,” your boss replies and that is the moment when you cut your finger. Thanks to your self-control you manage to keep your voice down and your silent hiss drowns in the music filling the bar. “I’ve even hired some extra help.”

 _Oh no, stop it. Don’t mention me. Don’t mention me!_ You give telepathy a shot and send your warnings to your boss.

“I must say your extra help uses a very peculiar perfume,” Ignis Scientia comments, “what is it? A floral heart with notes of… an apple I would say? Although there seems to be a bit of incense, musk, amber, patchouli, and cedar wood as the base notes.”

 _Damn you, Ignis Scientia. Damn you and damn me for answering your nosy questions all those years back!_ You curse in your thoughts as you’re reminded of the conversation about your perfume - one of the first questions Ignis asked you when he’d lost his vision. You really should have worn something else tonight.

“Wow, Iggy, you can tell?!” Prompto gasps in amazement at the sense of smell of his companion.

“I’ve been told before,” Ignis explains with a smirk in Gladio’s direction.

“Come on, darling, don’t be shy and greet our guests, will you?” your boss encourages you as if you were a shy little child hiding behind a doorframe - you wish you were.

You quickly grab your half empty glass of beer and finish it in one mighty go. You need all the courage you can muster and hope the beer will help. There’s no point pretending you’re a random person. With your middle finger still bleeding and your left hand on your chest, you turn around, quickly find King Noctis with your eye and bow in front of him - just so you don’t have to make an eye-contact for a few seconds longer.

“It’s an honour to meet you again after all those years, Your Majesty,” you say almost ceremoniously. It honestly surprises you that you voice doesn’t tremble at all. Your legs sure do.

The four friends fall dead silent for a few, never-ending seconds. As if something sucked their breaths out of their lungs. You slowly raise your head again and look at Noctis, because you are not sure what’s going on. They can’t be that shocked, can they?

The King swallows and then opens his mouth to speak:

“Nice to meet you too, (Y/N).”

You realise your lips are stretching into a kind and gentle smile, as the handsome young King grins back at you. You’re in disbelief to find your emotions be so overwhelmingly positive, although you still feel like throwing up.

“O.M.G., it is really you!” Prompto leans over the bar, almost in your face. You recoil because you’re unsure what’s he’s going for, a kiss on a cheek? Noctis pulls him back.

“Well, well,” Ignis smiles, but you immediately suspect he was the first to recognize you due to your perfume. It _is_ a peculiar scent after all.

“Gladio, it’s (Y/N)!” Prompto howls at the big guy on Ignis’s right.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Gladio growls and keeps gazing at you. Actually, you feel like he’s gazing at you. You wouldn’t know because you’re doing your best to avoid looking in his direction.

“So, I presume the so-called promising new colleague Luna told me about is you, am I right?” Noctis asks you and raises his eyebrows. You can’t help yourself and blush a little. His face is still quite soft, but his features turned towards the manlier side. You remember he used to remind you of a black chocobo chick, and now he looks so handsome!

“Well, I certainly hope I am!” you reply cheerfully.

“So I guess you’ve met before, what a surprise,” your boss comments and starts pouring them drinks. You turn to him in order to help him, but you’re stopped in your tracks.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Gladio suddenly speaks your name. There goes your plan to pretend he doesn’t exist…

“Y-Yeah?” you peep quietly and look at him timidly. His voice sounds so strict all of a sudden, but it’s nothing compared to his intense stare. There are many silent questions in his amber eyes. You can’t shake off the feeling you’re tearing up a little as you try to withstand the pressure.

 _Come on, say something or else I’ll faint…_ Your inner voice whines uncomfortably at Gladiolus’s silence.

Then it happens.

Instead of speaking, he reaches out, adamantly yet gently grabs your left hand, pulls it to his face and firmly presses his slightly chapped lips against the cut on your middle finger, sucking out blood that has pooled in the wound.

“Ohoho,” Prompto snickers and jabs his elbow into Noct’s side. The king immediately jabs him back.

You stare at Gladio, your eye opened wide as he looks back at you from behind those unnaturally thick eyelashes of his. Your lips flutter as if you’re about to say something but can’t quite make up your mind what it should be. Your hands start to shake, but you doubt he will notice - that’s how firmly he holds your hand. On top of that, your mind makes you remember all sorts of things from the past.

Just when you think you’re really going to collapse on the floor, it’s over. He slowly releases your hand and you quickly retract it and press it against your chest.

“You were bleeding,” he says smugly as if it counts as an apology.

“I was about to clean it,” you reply in a defensive tone.

“Now you don’t need to,” he winks at you.

“Oh trust me, I do. Sucking out blood from the wound isn’t the most sterile type of first aid unless your saliva acts as a disinfectant,” you say sternly and he grins, amused by your cheekiness.

“Oof, is it just me or is it getting hotter in here?” Prompto whines and starts fanning himself with his opened hand.

“I haven’t even noticed you were hurt,” Noctis comments and he seems genuinely surprised by Gladio’s attention to detail. Your boss hands the four men their drinks and looks at your hand.

“Hang on, darling, I’ll get a bandage,” he says and disappears to the kitchen, leaving you all alone with your old acquaintances.

 _No, don’t go! Please don’t leave me alone with HIM!_ You think to yourself and your brain completely erases existence of King Noctis, Ignis and Prompto. Gladiolus’s presence is just too overwhelming to a small you.

“Well, guys, let’s have a drink, shall we?” Noctis proposes and raises his glass of whiskey. “To (Y/N) and our happy reunion!”

“Cheers!” his friends join in. Gladio has his eyes fixed on you the whole time. Gosh, you fell like a tiny rabbit being watched by an eagle.

“Heheh, guys,” you laugh awkwardly and raise an empty beer glass in a half-assed attempt to have a toast with them.

“(Y/N), how have you been doing all these years, if you don’t mind me asking?” Ignis catches you off-guard with a question as he places his glass back on the bar.

“And if I do mind you asking?” you try asking back jokingly in hopes his question gets ignored.

“Come on, you owe us an answer, don’t you think?” Prompto smiles. You can tell he’s very curious about your past.

“I-I don’t think I do, but very well,” you shrug. “I was doing--,“ you stop and question yourself. What answer do you even wish to give them? Even if you wanted to pour out your heart and share all the details of your past, today’s not the right time for something like that. You’re working. You have all these customers to take care of.

“-fine. I mean, it was passable I guess,” you mumble and your so-called answer leaves them with even more questions.

“And _where_ have you been? It surely wasn’t Lestallum, was it?” Ignis questions you further.

You sigh in defeat. _Just out with it._ Taking a deep breath, you reply quietly: “Accordo. I’ve never left Altissia. That’s where I’ve spent the Long night.”

The men look at each other and a mixture of confusion and worries overshadows their faces.

“We heard Altissia was left abandoned and taken over by daemons,” Gladio speaks and he sounds almost angry to you, “that’s why I… _we_ thought you were gone.” His words drive the bleak reality of your past even further home. Your chest tightens, making it so difficult to breathe.

“A lot has happened in the last ten years,” you say with a heavy heart. Honestly, you’re on the brink of tears, but you can’t afford to cry now.

“A story for another time, perhaps.”

Sensing the anxiety in your voice, Ignis wraps up this conversation. At that moment you’re so grateful to him you could just jump at him and kiss his scarred face.

It almost looks like Gladio wants to demand more answers, but your boss Richard appears with an adhesive bandage and starts taking care of your finger.

You’re saved - for now.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there's the reunion. I was so excited when I wrote this chapter and I can't wait to write the next one.
> 
> I wanted to realease this chapter back to back with the previous one because there was no Gladio in it, that's why they're released merely a day apart. I hope I'll keep a steady pace with chapters coming forward.
> 
> As always, thank you for comments and kudos, they mean a lot to me! <3


	4. Tear In Your Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The meeting with old friends leaves you drained and the walk home in the dead of night makes it even worse.

Narrowing your eyes in the late afternoon sunlight, you pressed your lips together in a very uncomfortable and silly expression. What was this situation about? Why were you sitting in a passenger seat of this fancy car headed to Galdin Quay?

„Are you ok over there?“ the driver asked you, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. You looked at him. The smug expression on his face made you frustrated even more.

“I just didn’t think your ‘can I make it up to you’ actually meant ‘I’ll take you out camping’,” you sputtered out, surprising yourself with the intensity of your words. “I thought you meant, um…”

“What, a date?” he chuckled and glanced at you.

“Y-Yeah, a date,” you admitted and sighed “or something…” Gladiolus Amicitia was somewhat infamous for his hobby of camping, hiking and generally anything to do with nature, and although you didn’t hate those activities either, it wasn’t what you’d had in mind. Especially not after meeting him in a bar in the first place.

“But I asked you to take a night off,” Gladio objected to your complaints.

“Yeah, about that…,” you muttered quietly, growing somewhat red, and quickly turned away to look out of the window on your side. You just couldn’t admit you’d low-key expected - _hoped for_ \- a night full of hot love-making, could you. Even your mother had looked at you with hopeful eyes when you’d requested a night off and to NOT under ANY circumstances be contacted by hospital staff or your family. ‘About time,’ she’d ginned at you, that harpy of a woman.

“What, were you hoping for something else?” he snickered and turned left to Galdin as soon as the car approached Hammerhead Gas Station.

“No, I wasn’t,” you shook your head.

“You know, camping and that other thing don’t contradict each other,” he informed you nonchalantly.

“I said I wasn’t!” you barked at him and he laughed at your reaction. He’d never tell you, but he found it somewhat cute.

“Sorry about that,” he apologised when he’d noticed your grumpy face. “We can return to Insomnia and go to a club or just watch something or play videogames at my place. But I thought you’d be fine with the trip, given the fact you’d actually agreed to it…”

“N-No, I am fine. Let’s go,” you calmed down quickly. You couldn’t tell him you were absolutely scared about sleeping in the same tent as him. For some reason it felt way more intimate than a date at the club. You could go on and on about being extremely inexperienced with men and the sheer reality of him, your long-term secret crush, asking you out didn’t do much to disperse the kaleidoscope of butterflies in your stomach.

You hadn’t expected him to stop, but he did. He pulled the car to the dusty roadside all of a sudden.

“Eh? Are we stopping? Why?” you looked around in panic. Did he get mad or something?

“Are you sure you want to go?” he turned to you in the driver’s seat and pierced your heart with his amber stare. “I won’t get mad if you ask me to turn back. I just thought you’d enjoy calm and quiet outdoors, having a stressful job and all that…,” he explained in serious manner. Your cheeks started growing even more flushed. You’d never thought he’d actually invited you because of your hard job. Well, it was true you often let your job overwhelm you - both physically and emotionally.

“I-It’s just…,” you gasped for air and decided to just spit out the gist of your confusion and frustration. “I’ve never been with a guy. A-Anywhere. In this way,” you stuttered and your lips were trembling. “N-Nor did I ever do anything with a guy for that matter,” you added in a voice just above a whisper.

You should just punch yourself instead of saying _that_. You were of similar age as Gladiolus, your parents were already giving you hard time about marriage and grandkids, yet there you were: seemingly married to your job and admitting to the guy you’d admired since who knows when - the last year of kindergarten probably - that yes, you were indeed a late bloomer when it came to things like dating, relationships and casual sex.

Gladio inspected your face, his expression hinted at his surprise, and then gently pressed his thumb against the red apple of your cheek.

“I just wanna get to know you better is all,” he smiled reassuringly with a hint of admiration in his eyes, making you inexplicably angry at yourself for spilling the beans about your inexperience.

“I-I… I haven’t brought a swimsuit with me,” was the best thing you could come up with to counter your over-sharing.

That’s it! You’d come up with a new way to embarrass yourself. You were about to undo your seatbelt and run out of his car, disappearing in the Leiden desert forever - that’s how stupid you felt.

“Yeah, me neither,” he winked at you with a playful smirk and restarted the engine.

Needless to say, at the end of the trip you were extremely happy you’d agreed to go, even though nothing serious happened between the two of you.

You just talked about life, both of your jobs, prince Noctis, and other things. And yes, the skewers he prepared on the camp fire were a bit too spicy for your liking, but their spiciness waned in comparison to his decision to go skinny dipping under the stars. You excused yourself of course, only to sit at the stony edge of Lachyrte Haven afterwards, straining your eyes by staring at the dark sea which looked like a huge mass of obsidian, secretly complaining you hadn’t brought a pair of binoculars with you AND worrying for Gladio’s safety as you could clearly hear a bunch of daemons roam the beach nearby.

And when he dropped you off in front of the building where your apartment was, the friendly little goodbye kiss he pressed against your flushed cheek and his casual words of gratitude spoken through a wide grin meant the world to you.

*

You leave the bar through the backdoor, make sure you look the place properly and then take a deep breath. It’s two o’clock in the morning and you’re exhausted beyond measure. The whole time you were cleaning the bar, wiping the floor and washing the dishes, your brain kept replaying the ‘first date with Gladio’ scenario like it was a goddamn movie.

You know you can’t keep holding on to those memories no matter how sweet they are. It’s like dreaming about a cake you ate ages ago - pointless, when your stomach is currently rumbling and hurting with hunger. The memory of a cake does nothing for sating your current need of nutrition.

 _Now I want a damn cake…_ You whine and sarcastically thank yourself for coming up with this silly analogy.

You take a deep breath of fresh night air and make sure the bar is locked once again. King and his royal retinue left hours ago, an hour before midnight, but your hands are still shaking and your legs are weaker than you prefer them to be.

Honestly, the way you see it, you deserve a medal for standing your ground at the bar. Maybe not a gold one as you stood on the verge of tears at one point when the conversation got too close to your past, but definitely a silver one.

Grabbing two big garbage bags, you wobble your way out of this tiny back alley. Discarding the garbage in a huge container on the main street, you head home. You didn’t expect to be stopped in your tracks after a few steps, but here you are.

“Hey,” a low but rumbly voice calls out to you. Normally you wouldn’t even flinch - you have no time to spare for catcallers - but this time it’s different. You stop, turn around slowly and look at the behemoth of a man standing on the street by some steam pipes.

Gladiolus Amicitia, laying low in wait for his prey, finally attacks.

“Hey,” you reply quietly and look at his face with a questioning flutter of your eyelashes.

Six, he’s somehow grown to be even more handsome than you remember him! The hair on his previously shaved sides has grown back and he wears them in a small half ponytail. His beard has also grown thicker and you have a feeling his shoulders are somewhat broader, although that one might be just your imagination.

“Is that it?” he asks you almost reproachfully. “Just hey?”

You nod and add quietly:

“Hey and good night.”

He furrows his thick eyebrows in disagreement. His expression reveals an unfamiliar network of soft wrinkles around his eyes and forehead; a reminder that neither of you got any younger during the last ten years.

Seeing your questioning look, he sighs and eases up on the frowning.

“Come on, I’ll walk you home. It’s late,” he announces and walks over to you.

“Why?” you almost moan out your question and stare daggers at him.

“Why? What if someone snatches you off the street, rapes you and kills you?” he mumbles as if your question didn’t even make sense.

“Heh,” you chuckle cynically, “is that the worst you could think of?”

Gladiolus stops and furrows his eyebrows again. Your answer made him recoil to say the least. He remembers you as a timid and kind young woman. Ten years are a long period of time, but he feels there’s more behind your personality change that just years flying by. You seem so - what’s the word - grim. Cynical. Pessimistic.

He needs to know why and that’s why he starts asking.

“What happened to your eye? The scar looks fresh,” he comments. You are a healer, but he knows a lot about scars and the way the injured tissue heals.

“Just a minor accident,” you reply passively and start walking in random direction, because your poor apartment building is the last place you’d want him to see.

“An accident? It looks like a clean cut,” he objects and follows you, careful not to walk too close. He doesn’t want to scare you off as he remembers clearly how quick you used to be to retreat when pushed too far.

“An accident,” you repeat and pick up your pace for some reason, although you’re aware there’s no way you could run from him.

“Were you a freelance hunter or something?” Gladio wonders. He admittedly knows it’s very unlikely. You could take care of yourself, but your physical build is nothing like that of female hunters, that much he can tell. In fact, you look more fragile than you used to.

You snicker, your cynicism overflowing like a pot of hot water that someone left on a stove for too long.

“No,” you shake your head and that’s really all that you want to tell him, but end up throwing in some extra sentences. “I’ve never stopped being what I was born to be. Just a support.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he growls, confused at your choice of words. He walks in front of you and stops, so you almost crash into his wide chest. “Spit it out, (Y/N),” he barks, the frustration getting the better of him. “Where have you been the last ten years?”

“I wasn’t lying,” you mumble defensively, looking away because you can’t stand how close he is now. “I’ve spent the Long night in Altissia ever since we parted our ways after Lady Lunafreya’s passing,” you tell him, somehow keeping the cracks in your voice at bay.

Smiling at him very faintly, you walk past him through a narrow escape route along the wall to continue your evening stroll towards your studio, but you nearly bump your head into his muscular arm as he blocks your way.

“Altissia was presumably abandoned,” he hisses, “so tell me: what were you doing over there?”

You squeeze both your eyelids and lips shut for a few moments. This is not how you’ve imagined your reunion to be, but hey, you haven’t even thought of ending up in Lestallum. There’s never been much of a plan going on.

You know you should tell him to give him a peace of mind. He probably worried about you for such a long time. Putting aside the romantic aspect of your past relationship, you were good friends first and foremost. Friends look after each other and show concern for each other’s safety; his need for answers is completely justified.

“Hey, look at me,” he speaks all of a sudden, his voice so tender and sweet it reminds you those intimate moments you once shared.

Lured by his unexpectedly warm tone, you open your eye to look at him. His expression almost makes you cry. Gladiolus looks so bewildered and desperate.

“I was so worried,” he mumbles in defeat, lowers his arm that was blocking your way and gently places his huge hands on your cheeks. You murmur quietly as he gazes at you, trying to play a spot the difference game with the fading picture of your face in his memory. His hands are so warm and welcoming and your barriers start melting like a chocolate bar left on a window sill during the noon in this tropical city.

However, you’re not the only one giving in. Overcome by a mix of conflicting emotions, Gladio starts leaning in and quickly closing the distance between your lips.

_He’s gonna kiss me…_

As you feel his hot, alcohol-laced breath on your face, you quickly wake up from your dazed state and press the palm of your left hand against his mouth forcefully. The thick dark hairs of his beard graze your skin.

“Cheat,” you hiss your warning and it works wonders as he releases your face from the grasp of his big hands.

 _She knows_ … His inner voice tells him, realising you’ve probably been filled in with details about his engagement.

You give him a stink eye, pass him and continue home only to realise he’s following you in dead silence. Ending up in front of your apartment building after all, you stop and look at him in disbelief.

“Just how far are you going to follow?” you ask him sternly and place your hands on your hips. It boosts your bravery and determination, but it does very little to improve your nonexistent menacing aura. He still sees no more than an angry moogle in you because you’re too short to be threatening to a tall man like him.

“How far it takes to get my answers,” Gladio replies stubbornly. You let your arms dangle by your sides and let out a defeated sigh. “What were you doing in Altissia during those ten years?” he asks again and stares at you in expectation.

“Surviving, like you. Like everyone else,” you say weakly. It’s not a lie. No one was exactly flourishing in the World of Ruin.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” he rejects such a half-assed reply. “Try again.”

You heave in frustration and rub your healthy left eye. It’s obvious he won’t give you a break till he gets what he wants, but you don’t want to be too revealing in your explanation.

“Look,” you take a deep breath, “this city, Lestallum, is called the City of Light, right?”

“Well, yeah. For obvious reasons,” he shrugs and looks around, unsure how Lestallum relates to your answer.

“Right. This is where all good people took refuge during the Long night,” you continue and fiddle with your fingers nervously. “From what I know, the criminal rate was very low, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, people had other things to worry about than stealing and killing each other,” he admits with a small nod.

“Well,” you keep prolonging your ordeal in hopes he can somehow read your mind and save you the trouble saying it. “Things aren’t always sweet or bitter like in Lestallum. Sometimes they can be sour, even if they used to be sweet. Often, you can even enjoy the sour taste, or find comfort in it. Um… Or they can be spicy? And sometimes they are so spicy they taste bitter more than anything, and that’s when they make you sick. Sometimes you can’t even tell the spicy and sour and the bitter apart, because it’s actually rotten through and through,” you start yapping and getting lost in your weird analogies.

“Stop, stop!” he raises his voice and shakes his head. “Get to the point, alright?”

You look at him with disappointment he doesn’t deserve, because even you know your taste comparison is beyond stupid. You take another deep breath.

“The point is, if all the good people went to Lestallum, all the bad people migrated to Accordo. The city of Altissia was full of pillagers, murderers and prostitutes, and that’s the crux of the matter,” you let your words tumble like a snowball rolling down the hillside.

The unexpected relief you experience thanks to _finally letting someone know_ is in sharp contrast with the pain that hits you when you see his expression. Is it disgust he feels?

“So you were … What, whoring yourself out?” he asks abruptly. There goes your answer: he is either disgusted by what you’ve hinted at or he’s doing poor job showing you otherwise.

“Surviving, that’s the word,” you correct him softly. Your empathy hasn’t been damaged by the grim years and you find understanding within yourself for what he’s feeling right now, even if it hurts you more than you know.

Gladiolus is silent for a long time. It takes him about half a minute to gather himself. By the time he finally speaks you are wondering if he froze or something.

“Look, sorry if I sounded like a dick,” he mumbles quietly. “It’s good to see you’re doing alright.”

Alright? No, you aren’t doing alright. You are and have been a mess for years, waking up at odd hours to bawl your eyes out and hating yourself for not leaving Altissia when you had the chance. If daemons were ‘the bitter’, you would call the things you experienced in Altissia ‘the rotten’, and you can’t shake the feeling that the sweetness of the dawning future won’t be enough to cover the aftertaste of all that rot.

You don’t reply, but you give him a weak smile instead. Gladio seems to be at a loss of words.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” he sighs in the end and beckons you to follow, even though he has no idea where you live.

“I’m already home,” you mutter and nod your head at the shabby looking building towering over you.

“You live _here_?” he looks at you in disbelief. It is the cheapest, dirtiest and all around shittiest apartment building in the whole city.

“Nothing else was available when I arrived,” you shrug dismissively.

“Do…,” Gladio opens his mouth and closes it again as he’s wondering if he’s in position to offer you help. “Do you want something else? I could get you something bigger,” he offers and you shake your head.

“I’m fine. With the work in Lady Lunafreya’s hospital and my work at the bar I’ll be hardly spending any time at home,” you explain and smile at him again.

“Well,” he growls in annoyance and clenches his fists. Gladiolus doesn’t know why, but he’s really against the idea of you living in such a low cost place. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

“No, I don’t,” you shake your head cheekily, because you literally have no idea where he lives, even though you’d probably find him by the Crownsguard training grounds beyond the city walls if you looked for him. “But that doesn’t matter. I’ll ask Lady Luna if I need something from any of you guys,” you add quickly before he starts giving you location names and directions. You care very little where he goes every night to sleep, because there’s another woman in his bed.

“Ok,” he nods, feeling a bit relieved you don’t plan to do things on your own. He’d like to tell you you’re not alone and you can count on him, but there’s only so much he can do as a man who is spoken for. If only he remembered his commitments a few minutes ago when he was about to kiss you…

“Oh!” you jerk suddenly as you get an idea for the first favour. “Do you know where I could buy a bucket of paint for a reasonable price? Any colour is fine,” you ask him and his initial shocked grimace is replaced with a grin.

“I’ll get you something,” he promises.

“Perfect,” you grin back, your gaze lingers on his manly features for a second and then you say in a low voice: “Good night.”

“Yeah, night,” his smile begins to dwindle away as you disappear behind the half broken front door. Given the late hour, he wonders if the whole evening was just a dream caused by his mind trying to tie up all the loose ends before his marriage, but the intricate scent of your perfume still lingers in the heavy air around him.

_Shit I forgot to ask for her number… Again._

He remembers the first time he tried to seduce you in the bar back in good old Insomnia. That time he forgot to ask for your number as well, only to find out he’d had it all along. This time, however, there’s no such thing.

As he rubs his temples under a streetlamp, trying to make something out of your sudden reappearance in his life and all those things you’ve said about your past, you enter your studio, sobbing quietly into the sleeve of your uniform, and allow your body to collapse on the mattress of your half-broken bed.

You don’t ask for a silver medal. You don’t ask for a gold one either. All you as for is to sleep in serenity till the morning - something you are absolutely positive won’t happen because of the tremor in your guts.

You turn so you lie on your back and look at your left hand. It’s the hand he touched when he kissed away your blood at the bar, and the same one you pressed against his mouth when you forced yourself to stop him from kissing you. 

_It still lingers… It still hasn’t disappeared, that light. That sweetness._ You think to yourself as you fist your hand and press it closely against your chest. You know your thoughts refer to much more than mere sense of touch. It hurts so much.

“Owie,” you whine helplessly into the darkness of your single room apartment.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this makes up for lack of Gladio in the previous chapters...
> 
> Writing this chapter was BOMB. We got the first glimpse at MC's past and a cute flashback at the beginning. Soon I'll have to add more tags, but I want to be somewhat stingy with them. Trigger warnings are important (and will be added accordingly), but I don't like to be spoiled by reading tags for a multi-chapter story and wonder when each chapter comes into play if you know what I mean.
> 
> Anyway, please feel free to let me know in the comments what you think about the chapter, story so far and anything else! Thanks for reading!


	5. This Woman's Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After meeting with Gladio and having your heart shattered, you couldn't sleep to save your life. Naturally, you're happy to keep yourself busy in both of your jobs to clear your head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note this chapter has some very minor OCs (OCs will appear from time to time).

Standing in your tiny bathroom, you stare at your reflection in a cracked mirror. You recognise yourself, sort of, although you’ve thought the days you woke up looking like _this_ were long gone. Both your eyes are red and swollen from crying all night and there are nasty dark circles under them. All that makes your scar hurt more than usual.

“Looking smashing, girl,” you mutter sarcastically to your reflection and start brushing your hair. Rather than smashing, you look like someone tried to actually smash your face. You really hoped you’d be presentable on your first day of work for Lunafreya, but you guess you can’t have everything.

Skipping your usual morning walk to the city market, you head straight to the hospital. Your stomach hurts like hell because of the hunger, but you feel too sick to get something for breakfast. You can only hope your stomach ache will have passed by noon in order to have a small meal for lunch. You absolutely can’t afford slipping back into your past poor eating habits.

As you reach the hospital, you are surprised to find this place so busy. Yesterday there was hardly anyone, but now? The place is full of men in black, either the Hunters or the Crownsguard, as they carry in more and more furniture. Some of them look at you as if you were a ghost and one of them apologetically explains that the hospital isn’t open for business yet, but if you are really in need of help, he will take you to Lady Lunafreya.

 _I must look terrible…_ You think to yourself after explaining that you’re a new employee. Bracing yourself for possible meetings with certain members of the Crownsguard, you carefully slip into the building and after avoiding a few men with bed frames and mattresses on the staircase you reach Lunafreya’s office. The door is slightly opened, but you knock anyway.

“Come in,” a welcoming voice of the princess invites you in and you enter.

“Good morning,” you cheer, doing your absolute best to make your voice sound in contrast with how you feel and look. You immediately notice a handsome man with dark visor and hair combed in a stylish pompadour sitting in an armchair in front of Lunafreya. After they return your greeting, Luna looks at you with eyes full of concern.

“Are you alright, (Y/N)? Your eyes are all puffy,” she asks, gets up and walks closer to you. “Is that an allergic reaction to something?”

“Or someone, perhaps?” Ignis asks in jest.

“Ah? No, no,” you shake your head and take a little step back before Luna can get too close. “I couldn’t sleep very well last night,” you explain dismissively. You don’t want her to worry about you too much. You’ve always dealt with your stress and insomnia on your own.

“Alright,” she nods and offers you a cup of tea. You, however, eye the mug Ignis Scientia holds in his right hand.

“I could really use some strong coffee if you don’t mind,” you ask quietly and feel terrible for making demands. Luna smiles and with an understanding ‘sure’ she starts preparing a cup of Ebony for you.

“Congratulations on your good taste,” Ignis smiles in your direction. He may be blind but he’s more aware of his surroundings than anyone else.

“Well thank you, Mr Scientia,” you grin. You may look like a living dead but this interaction feels so uplifting!

“Oh, just my luck, I was hoping to share a cup of morning tea with someone and ended up with two Ebony lovers,” Lunafreya chuckles as she hands you your cup. The dark liquid smells divine and rejuvenates you before you even taste it.

“Nothing against your tea, Lady Lunafreya, we all know it’s the best in Eos,” Ignis reassures her politely, “but Ebony is where it’s at for me.”

“I know, I know,” she laughs and takes a sip of her tea.

“I’m surprised they’re still making it,” you mumble and ogle your cup as if it was a miracle of nature.

“Don’t you just love it that some things don’t ever change?” Ignis smiles contently and smirks at you so peculiarly you question what he’s even referring to.

“Heh, yeah, some things,” you admit nervously and smile at Lunafreya, because it feels like Mr Scientia looks right through you with that visor of his and you prefer Luna’s gentle and sincere eyes.

“(Y/N), are you really feeling alright?” Luna asks you a places her hand on your forearm gently. “You don’t have to be here if you’re too tired.”

“No, I’m really fine,” you try to persuade her. “I’m sure I’ll sleep much better tonight if I exhaust myself enough.”

You barely notice it, but Ignis lets out a quiet snort, doubting your words of explanation. He knows very well that a night shift at the bar should be more than enough to make you exhausted. There’s a different reason for your lack of sleep.

“I was wondering if you could help me clean some rooms after the men are done moving the furniture,” she says apologetically.

“Great, I’ll start as soon as they’re done,” you smile at her and drink from your cup. The bitterness of the coffee kicks you in the gut, but it’s not a bad feeling.

Lunafreya and Ignis start to discuss financial aspect of the hospital. It makes you feel a bit out of place since you don’t engage in the conversation, but you also find it interesting as it reminds you of your jobs in Insomnia _and_ Altissia.

By the time you have finished your cup of Ebony, a loud banging noise shakes the half-opened door. Gladiolus pokes his head inside without waiting for Lunafreya’s approval. His hair is slightly messy as a few strands escaped his ponytail, and his forehead glistens with sweat.

_Great, so he’s here too._

“Lady Lunafreya, the top floor’s ready to go,” he announces with a grin, happy it went quicker than expected. His grin evaporates as soon as he notices you.

“Hey,” he furrows his eyebrows but his expression isn’t an angry one. It looks similar to Lunafreya’s when she saw you in the doorway.

“H-Hey,” you reply nervously and keep your swollen left eye on the empty cup in your hand.

“Everything alright?” he mumbles and completely forgets about Luna and Ignis for a brief moment.

“Of course,” you nod and continue avoiding direct eye contact. You don’t look alright at all, but who is he to judge you. You’re a completely different person than those ten years ago.

“Ok,” he sighs and looks at Ignis. “Iggy, I wanna talk to you about something, do you have a minute?”

“Certainly. Give me a second,” Ignis agrees and finishes his coffee. “Well, Lady Lunafreya, you have my gratitude for sparing some time for our meeting.”

“Thank you for your insight, Ignis, as always,” Lunafreya thanks the Hand of the King and gets up as he leaves.

Gladiolus watchfully waits as Ignis collects himself and before they leave together, he quickly glances at you. Boy, you look terrible and he feels guilty of it. Maybe he shouldn’t have confronted you about your past. Then again, he didn’t mean to hurt you. He was just so curious!

You, on the other hand, continue avoiding any eye-contact, because you’re too worried what could happen if you looked at him for too long.

When they are finally gone, you get up and look at Luna.

“I’ll get down to work. Upper floor it is,” you say with a little clap. The Oracle watches you with certain amount of worries, but lets you know where to find a bucket and something to mop the floors with.

*

No matter how tired you are from the previous night, you work really hard to clean all the rooms in the upper floor. Lunafreya joins you and leaves again a few times during morning and afternoon, always apologising for letting you do the most work. You always dismiss her apologies; you’re happy to help and have something to do to have your mind occupied. Still, your thoughts mostly turn around Gladiolus Amicitia, as you wonder if he’s still in the building or his work is done and he’s gone.

Later that afternoon Lunafreya calls you to her office once more and serves you green tea with sylleblossom petals.

“I-It’s divine,” you mumble as the floral and bitter taste spreads on your tongue. “Kick me the next time I ask for coffee instead of this,” you joke and immediately bite your tongue, since you’re unsure if you can afford this level of familiarity with the princess.

“Heheh, and just why would I do that,” she giggles and pushes a plate full of delicious looking pastries closer to you. “Have some, Ignis made them,” she encourages you to help yourself.

You smile and shake your head.

“Thank you, maybe some other time,” you refuse politely. “Should I continue cleaning the other floors tomorrow?” you wonder, hoping for even more manual work so you can keep your head clear.

Luna presses her lips together, a bit disappointed you ask for more work as soon as you’ve finished your today’s workload, but she answers your question with a soft smile:

“About tomorrow… I have a special task for you.” She watches your eyebrows rise in anticipation. “I’d like you to deliver some medical supplies to Galdin Quay and check on the staff while you’re there. Our friend Coctura Arlund is reopening the Mother of Pearl restaurant soon and asked for some support.”

As she explains, she sees your anticipation turn into panic. You don’t have to utter a word for her to know what your thoughts are because they are plastered all over your face.

“I-I…,” you gasp, then suck in your lips for a second and retry forming a sentence: “I’ll do it of course, but there’s a problem, Lady Lunafreya. I don’t have a car, even if I had I haven’t driven in ages and I don’t even think I’d be comfortable diving with only one eye. I can see well enough, but I still haven’t got used to the lack of depth perception.”

You know the last bit might be a poor excuse. It’s not like there’s heavy traffic on roads across Lucis, but you are sure the other bits are completely valid.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get someone to drive you down there,” she smiles. You could swear to Ifrit’s hairy behind you sense a sprinkle of mischief in her voice, if only the Infernian wasn’t gone like the rest of the Astrals.

Oh, how you want to complain! Can’t a Hunter or someone else take the medical supplies there? Having someone act as a driver to take you all the way to Galdin Quay seems like such waste of resources - something you lost tolerance for long ago. You know Luna wants you to do some sort of medical check-up on the staff helping Ms Coctura Arlund, but what for? Galdin used to be a spa resort: it’s a much healthier place to stay than hot and somewhat polluted Lestallum.

As you try to drown all the complaints and arguments before the Oracle catches a glimpse of them, you take a quick sip of the delicious tea.

_Think of the positives. You’ll get to enjoy the fresh sea air! Dammit._

“How about the driver picks you up by the Coernix Station around seven o’clock?” she asks and smiles apologetically. “I know it’s a bit early, but it’s a long journey to Galdin.”

“Not at all, I’m usually wide awake by five. This town is too hot for me,” you giggle.

“Perfect,” she claps her hands together happily. You’re sure of it now, there’s a whole lot of mischief in the manner she behaves, and you begin to worry for your life.

*

On your way home, you stop by the market to grab something quick to eat before you prepare for your evening shift at the bar. As you avoid any spicy skewers because your stomach probably couldn’t handle all that spice in its current starved state, you feel a gentle pat on your shoulder. You turn around and nearly jump a little as you see Iris stand in front of you, grinning widely.

“Hey, hungry?” she asks. She looks really happy to see you.

“Hello,” you smile back. “Yeah, kind of. I need something for dinner.”

“Let’s go to Surgate’s Beanmine then,” she grabs your arm and drags you to the middle of the town before you can protest.

“I have a confession to make,” Iris announces when you sit at a table and wait for your order a few minutes later. “Guess what, he scolded me,” she snorts.

“He?” you raise your left eyebrows, having no idea what she’s talking about.

“Yep, my brother. Apparently I was supposed to tell him you’re alive sooner,” she grins and watches your expression change from curious to slightly annoyed and sulky.

“Who cares? It’s been only a week,” you mutter. “To be honest, I was hoping I could avoid him longer than that. I mean, given our past…”

“Come on, it’s been ten years,” she sighs. You twitch uncomfortably because you feel she’s just called you out. Totally.

“It’s not like I can help it,” you say darkly.

It’s true, you can’t. All those years you were clinging to your memories of Gladiolus like a drowning man to a piece of wood from a ship that sank to the bottom of Cygillan Ocean. The memories are one of the few reasons why you’re still alive. You never expected to make it this far - to the new dawn - and you never expected to face the harsh reality that some people just moved on while your feelings stayed frozen in time all those years and now, as they thaw, are as good as new.

_I can’t think like that. I can’t feel resentful towards him for moving on._

“Are you even listening?” Iris asks you and pulls your attention away from your thoughts.

“A-Ah, sorry, just thinking about work,” you apologise quickly and bribe her with a smile, only to have it taken away by her next statement.

“I know it’s probably hard to hear, but his fiancée is a great woman and a good friend of mine. We used to go on hunts together,” Iris says carefully. “I’m sure you’d love her if I introduced you.”

You stare at her blankly for a few seconds. She can’t be possibly suggesting _THAT_ , can she? How is it even supposed to work? It’s not like you are totally against it or would make a scene if she decided to go ahead with it. It’s just… you don’t see a reason why you should meet the lucky lady who’s apparently charmed both Amicitia siblings.

“I’m sure I would, but I’m not going out of my way just to meet her,” you reply sternly. “Sure, I won’t be a bitch to her if I run into them somewhere, but I don’t necessarily need her in my life. Or him.”

Iris looks at you with a troubled expression. Your words sound so damn bitter!

“Yeah, I understand,” she nods sadly, “it’s just we agreed with Luna it would be nice if you could spend more time with our friend group. You’re all alone in this city, aren’t you?”

The waiter arrives with your bowl of hot soup. You wait with your answer till he’s gone. It provides you with a few more seconds to think about what to say.

“Look, I appreciate your kindness,” you breathe in and out, praying your voice doesn’t crack, “but I don’t ask for it, nor I need it. I’m fine like this and you’ve said it yourself: it’s been ten years. Your friend group is your own. Not mine.”

_Wow, I sound like such a bitch._

“So you don’t consider us your friends anymore?” Iris asks you and sounds really hurt.

“I’m not even sure,” you heave and sink a spoon into the thick creamy soup in front of you.

“Just what exactly have you gone through to change so much, (Y/N)?” she mutters a question she doesn’t expect an answer to and digs into her meal as well.

*

Later that evening at the bar, you’re in surprisingly good mood. You’re glad you refused Iris’s weird suggestions and the soup worked wonders for your hurting stomach. Trying not to think about tomorrow’s trip to Galdin Quay, you talk to patrons at your leisure. The bar is practically empty tonight save for a few people. Things are peaceful till the moment a rugged looking man walks in.

“Holy shit, (Y/N), is it you?!” the guy roars as soon as he notices you. He startles you, almost making you drop the glass of beer you’ve just filled for one of the customers. You focus your sight on him and immediately start beaming.

“Lucian!” you cheer and wave at him. He runs to you, leans over the bar and nearly crashes your skull in a bear hug.

Lucian is one of two smugglers that helped you escape Altissia mere hours before the end of the Long night. You practically owe him your life. He’s always been a bit of a savage, but you and your friends loved him for his positive energy and optimistic outlook on life, which was an incredibly rare thing to have in the World of Ruin. In spite of his threatening aura, he is a good man and you consider him one of the sweeter aspects of your past.

“What are you doing? Didn’t you wanna return to Insomnia?!” he barks questions at you. “Oh, right, there’s no more Insomnia, hahah!” He slaps your back so hard you nearly lose your breath.

“Yeah, I had no choice,” you shrug and immediately pour him a glass of whiskey. You remember very clearly what his favourite drink is.

“What about your girls? Keeping in touch?” he asks about your friends and drains the glass of whiskey in one go.

“Nah, haven’t seen them since we parted at Galdin,” you explain and pour him another glass. “What about you? Any business deals in Lestallum?”

“Girl,” he heaves dramatically, “you don’t wanna know. I’m scared shitless!”

“Oh?” you lean against the bar, grinning at him like a madwoman, “colour me intrigued. Spit it out, you big oaf!”

“You remember Silvana, right?” he moaned and put on a very dreamy face.

“Well, yes. You wouldn’t shut up about her whenever you had enough alcohol in your blood, which was - let me think,” you pretend you’re digging through your memory. “Oh yes, ALL THE DAMN TIME! Even the girls complained,” you giggle.

If you remember correctly - and you do, he was very vocal about her and it was hard to forget - Silvana was his fiancée pre-Long night. Apparently, they got separated in Altissia and he thought she was dead. His story was eerily similar to yours.

“Well, guess who I’m meeting tonight!” he laughs and drains another glass. “She’s been safe and sound in this town all along!”

“Wow, good for you,” you smile, “so you’re hoping to reconnect?”

“Of course. That’s why I’m scared shitless,” he mumbles and looks at the entrance to the place. “She should arrive any minute, dammit.”

“Well, I will root for you from behind the bar, I promise,” you pat his shoulder reassuringly. You feel him tense up as a tall, beautiful woman with long blond hair enters. “I guess that’s her, right?” you whisper and smile at the woman. She nods at you politely and then her eyes rest on your friend. You see her eyes grow wide and she covers he mouth with her hand. For some reason her happy reaction really warms your heart.

“Shit, what do I do,” he hisses at you and grins at her.

“Just be yourself,” you hiss back and push him away. “Go grab a seat at the table on the right. I’ll be there in a minute.”

For the rest of the evening you end up watching your friend laugh awkwardly at everything his company says and gesture with his hands as if he’s chasing away annoying flies. Frankly speaking, he makes you cringe a little, but he’s your friend and you feel the obligation to witness his ordeal to the very end like you’re his relationship coach or something. She looks like she’s enjoying his company though, so there’s that. At one point they both look at you and the beautiful lady smiles at you brightly and waves at you - you have no doubts he’s talking about you. You awkwardly wave back and go about your business.

It’s when you go to the kitchen in the back of the bar to get some fresh fruit for cocktails that you hear a loud crashing noise followed by a screeching rattle of shattering glass. You drop Duscaen oranges on the tiled kitchen floor and quickly return to the bar to see what’s happening. The patrons in the bar start cheering loudly and you suspect some sort of quarrel has just started.

 _Geez, just when boss has a day off!_ You complain to yourself, wondering how the hell you are going to prevent a bunch of men from fighting.

Wrong. Oh how wrong you are! You arrive to see Lucian has his ex-fiancée pressed against the table and he’s trying to devour her face by the look of it. It’s not like she minds as her slender fingers quickly unbutton his shirt. The cheering and whistling gets louder when he hoists her legs up and wraps them around his hips. Her short skirt rides up her lean thighs and Lucian starts clawing at his belt.

_Shit._

“Lucian! Stop! You can’t do that here! This is not a brothel! Get a room!” you yell and run to the couple who has obviously decided to reconnect in more ways than just one.

Stopping them was probably one of the most awkward things you had ever had to do. Lucian was pretty annoyed by your intervention and the woman, Silvana, looked really embarrassed and kept apologising as she helped you mop the floor and pick up all broken glass shards.

As you finally get home some time after midnight, you realise the whole situation left a weird aftertaste in your mouth. On one hand, you’re excited and happy your buddy could reunite with his past lover. On the other, you can’t help but feel extremely envious your reunion with a certain someone wasn’t the same.

You go to bed with thoughts of those dark ember eyes, which is a foolproof way to keep your night restless.

*

Dreams of your past life in Insomnia find you, and once again it’s like watching a movie starring yourself.

“Sorry!” you whined as you ran out of the apartment building with your bag towards Gladio’s car. He’d been waiting for you for quite a while now. You gave him an awkward smile as an apology.

“What took you so long?” he asked as he took your bag and placed it in the trunk of his car.

“You know, stuff and things,” you shrugged. You’d figured out it was be better to keep your indecision in choosing your lingerie to yourself, not to mention your morning gymnastics in front of a mirror to find out if the level of shave was to your liking.

This was your fifth date and third hiking trip and you were quite confused by how slow he took things with you. He seemed like a guy who had sex on the first date, yet he had not even kissed you so far. Friendly pecks on your cheek didn’t count. You often wondered if he was toying with you to see your reaction whenever he did something suggestive and called it ‘an accident’ afterwards. Like that time he went ‘skinny dipping accidentally’ during your first camping.

You blushed when he directed you an all-knowing smirk as the only reaction to your evasive reply.

“Get in, we have a long way ahead of us,” he said and closed the trunk.

“Ok, so where are we going this time?” you asked and got in the car. He joined you, leaned in and before you could even fasten your seatbelt, he placed his big hand on the back of your head and gently pulled you closer for a kiss.

Not a friendly peck on a cheek. A proper. Romantic. Kiss.

Your arms immediately covered with goose bumps as you grabbed his shoulders for support and all you could see was white for a moment. His lips sensually grazed yours and you deliberately opened your mouth just a smidge when you felt his hot tongue press against your lower lip. You even tried to reciprocate, but it all happened too suddenly.

Biting your lower lip provocatively, he pulled away and sneered at you:

“Good morning.”

“Y-Yeah, m-morning,” you stuttered and blinked at him perplexedly. Enjoying your reaction, he fastened your seatbelt for you, did the same for himself and drove off.

You passed through the city of Insomnia in silence. Gladio was waiting for you to speak first, but you wouldn’t even repeat your question about today’s destination. Naturally, he’d noticed how tenaciously you pinched your thighs. Were you trying to make sure you’re not asleep and dreaming?

When you passed the checkpoints and arrived to the Leiden desert, he reached to your lap and removed your hand to prevent you from pinching yourself so hard.

“Stop that, you’ll get bruises,” he said in low voice, wondering if he maybe overstepped some boundaries when he had kissed you without a warning.

You fisted your hands and stared at the road ahead.

“That was my first kiss,” you puffed eventually. “You stole it.”

He looked at you briefly. You were red like a tomato and appeared to be quite angry.

“What are you gonna do, press charges?” he asked with a slight frown.

“Maybe I should,” you pouted like an insolent child.

“Don’t worry, I’ll return it later,” he promised and his lips twitched. It somehow got on your nerves.

“No, just keep it, I don’t want it back,” you muttered, looked away and stared at a bunch of saberclaws hunting by the road. As soon as you’d passed them, he stopped the car. You looked at him in surprise, thinking you might have pissed him off and he was going to kick you out of the car.

“G-Gladio?” you squeaked in panic.

“You can be such a pain in the ass, you know that?” he growled, took off his seatbelt and once again leaned to you. Holding your chin carefully but rather firmly, he kissed you again. This kiss was a bit more forceful than the first one, wetter and even more sensual. As your tongue met his, you realised he tasted like Cup noodles - to no one’s surprise. When his tongue finally left your mouth and he bit your lower lip harder than before, you looked at him with half-lidded eyes.

“There’s your kiss back and that’s all you’re ever getting from me,” he rumbled at you and tried to return to his seat. Unfortunately, you had embraced him around the neck and hummed at him incoherently:

“Ok, but what about the interest?”

He stared at your face with frustration and gritting of his teeth. At that moment you looked dangerously erotic for a damn virgin.

“Fuck,” he hissed and dipped in for more as your soft lips greeted him back.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter! I admit it was a bit tedious to write, because it's one of the "story but filler" chapters. As in, things are happening but there're no juicy/angsty/fluffy bits we all read reader-insert fanfics for, heh. Originally there was hardly any Gladio, so I decided to include the flashback at the end, as a 'consolation prize'. Although I hope the OC part wasn't too annoying. It's there to keep poor MC even more bitter about her shitty lonely life, heh. As I've mentioned above, the OCs will appear from time to time (mostly MC's female friends), so please bear with with me if you dislike OCs in fanfictions. The story absolutely WON'T be driven by them.
> 
> Anyway, I'm quite excited about the next chapter, it should be rather funny. Please share your thoughts in the comments, I absolutely love reading your comments! They make me blush like a tomato. Thank you for reading!


	6. Tell It To The Fishes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your work-related trip to Galdin Quay takes an unexpected turn.

„Thanks brain, I hate it.“

You mumble grumpily as you get up in the morning, once again absolutely exhausted after a restless night. Whenever you fell asleep, dreams and nightmares would come. The dreams made you feel terrible because they were just that - dreams. The nightmares were terrible to begin with. You suppose it’s a good thing that this time the nightmares didn’t make you throw up as they usually did.

As you think about today’s trip to Galdin Quay, you make yourself a cup of coffee and a sandwich. Its filling is quite poor, but it will do. You hope you get a chance to eat something in Galdin. Before the world as you knew it went down the drain, the Mother of Pearl was well known for its seafood specialities.

You put on a pair of lightweight cotton crop pants and a loose long-sleeved blouse from similar material and a comfortable pair of sandals. It’s going to be hot where you’re headed and even though you would prefer to wear the blouse with a long skirt, you realise it’s not the most practical combo to wear if you’re supposed to perform any work and not relax on the beach.

_Shiva, please let the driver be a friendly fellow… who doesn’t talk much._

You wish quietly as you throw a bottle of fresh tap water in your rucksack, add three Lucian tomatoes for a quick snack later this morning and last but not least you put in your purse with personal documents - not like there’s a whole lot of them. Many of your various licences, a birth certificate, and other things have been long gone.

You realise it’s almost quarter to seven and it’s time to leave. Grabbing a small shoulder bag with your most useful medical supplies and utensils, you quickly put on some light fragrance and lock your studio with your good old friend, Sir Padlock.

Rushing out of the building, you expect to jog all the way to the Coernix Petrol station. It’s not far, but it’s not that close either and you really don’t want to be late on your first assignment. However, you almost knock over a guy standing by the front door of your apartment building.

“Dude, what’s wrong with you,” he laughs at you and picks up a medium-sized suitcase he’s dropped at the impact. It’s Prompto Argentum.

“Prompto, what are you doing here?” you ask and frown at him, although a red cross mark on the suitcase he’s holding answers your question right away.

“Lady Luna asked me to bring this to the car,” he explains and nods at the luggage.

“Couldn’t you just… drive to the hospital and load it right there?” you direct him a scornful look.

“Well, I guess. But no, not really,” he grins at you. You shake your head in disbelief.

“You guess but not really? Ok, if you say so,” you growl and take a deep breath. Sounds like you’re in trouble. Big, big trouble.

“Let me help you with something,” he eyes your rucksack and the shoulder bag.

“It’s not heavy,” you dismiss his proposal. “We should go, I don’t want to be late,” you force a fake smile.

“Ok, lead the way,” he nods and follows as if he was your servant.

After a few minutes of quick walk the town alleys spit you onto the sidewalk by the main road. All you have to do now is cross and you’ll be at the rendez-vous point. You stop in your tracks and stare at a car standing in a small parking lot by the gas station. It’s black with elegant dark purple sheen and it looks gorgeous. It instantly reminds you of cars in the good old Insomnia.

“There’s your ride,” Prompto snorts and points at the car.

“What the…,” you gasp and look at him. “Isn’t it the Regalia? I mean, THE Regalia?!”

“Have you expected any less?” he raises his eyebrows.

“Hell yes, I expected some cheap truck or a van or something,” you mutter and frown like there’s no tomorrow.

“Come on, they’re waiting,” he pokes you slightly with his empty hand to get you to move.

_I have a bad feeling about this…_

You cross the street and as you walk towards the car, Ignis walks out of the Mini-Mart.

“Morning, Ignis!” Prompto waves at him cheerfully and you join him, although your greeting is somewhat reluctant, because why not; Ignis Scientia is blind anyway.

“Good morning. You took your time,” Ignis comments and smirks a little.

“I’m really sorry about that,” you force another smile and move to the car as if it was some kind of execution device. Ignis opens the car’s trunk and moves aside to let Prompto place the suitcase in. After that, you slowly place your luggage in, save for a bottle of water. The drive to Galdin Quay is long.

“A-Am I really going by the Regalia?” you sputter out as the Hand of the King closes the trunk.

“Of course. Is there a problem with this arrangement?” Ignis wonders and pretends to be confused by your unwillingness.

“Uh, it feels like a waste of gas and… everything,” you mumble and blush a little. “I could simply just hitch a hike to Galdin. Not be given a ride there like some kind of… you know… royalty,” you complain quietly.

“Oh, but you are hitching a hike to Galdin. _With_ a member of the royalty,” Ignis smiles widely and you stare at him as you fall into a state of utter dismay.

“What?” you gasp and keep your mouth open in surprise, trying to make sense of his words.

At that moment the guy who was quietly sitting in the driver’s seat of the luxurious car gets out and smiles at you.

“Hop in, we have a long way ahead of us,” he beckons to you with his hand. You stare at him for a few seconds and he grows impatient. “Come on, don’t look at me like a landed Lucian carp. Say something!” he scolds you amicably.

“Y-Your Majesty,” you bow almost instinctively. In a way it’s your means to get more time to… to do what exactly? Flee? Or just come to terms with this surreal scenario?

At least now you know why they wouldn’t collect the medical supplies right at the hospital. The King of Lucis parking his keepsake car in a narrow street of Lestallum would look suspicious at best.

“Oh, cut that crap,” he sneers, “I’m no more than your driver today.”

You gawk at him, trying to ignore Prompto’s giggling, and then turn your head to Ignis.

“A-Are you guys serious?!” you stutter and feel a heat wave wash all over you. Your body can’t decide if it’s time to blush or turn deadly pale.

“Well, yes. Unfortunately,” Ignis pushes his visor up his nose. “His Majesty insisted.” You turn your shocked stare back to Noctis.

“Would you prefer someone else?” he asks you suggestively.

“Someone beefier, maybe?” Prompto giggles behind your back.

“No,” you reply harshly. “Let’s get this over with.” Walking to the passenger’s side of the car, Ignis stops you by gently touching your shoulder.

“He’s your responsibility now,” he speaks almost ceremoniously. “I hope you live up to my expectations as the responsible one of you two.”

“Hey,” Noctics growls from his seat.

“Uh, y-yes,” you blink and wonder why he sounds like he’s entrusting his only son to a babysitter. Ignis smiles contently.

“Perfect. One more thing,” he leans closer and hums into your ear, “don’t forget the seatbelt.”

“It was nice knowing you!” Prompto joins and pats your back in a comforting manner.

“I said knock it off, guys,” Noctis complains again and waits till you sit in the passenger seat. “Let’s hit it,” he grins at you as you quickly fasten your seatbelt. You look out of the window at Ignis and Prompto and both of them wave you goodbye as if it is the last time they see you alive. You hypnotize them with a hurt stare like a betrayed puppy abandoned by its owners as they get smaller and smaller, till they completely disappear when the Regalia enters the tunnel lining the Taelpar Crag.

 _Six, what is this! Why am I sitting in the car with the King?! Why can’t a random Hunter drive me there? Or Prompto? Hell, I’d even give Ignis and his blindness a shot! Anyone but King Noctis!_ You freak out while somehow keeping your face completely blank.

“Congratulations, I guess you’re both the Shield and the Hand for today,” the King smiles and takes a quick glance at you.

“… And?” you moan quietly.

“And, what?” he wonders and speeds up. You gesture to make finger guns, hitting at Prompto.

“Prompto… Well, he’s also my friend so no promotions in that department, sorry,” he grins at you.

You put on an uneasy and flabbergasted face. Is he hinting you’re one of his friends? You quickly look away as you’re dangerously close to blushing.

“I haven’t asked for promotions,” you mutter grumpily.

“I haven’t asked for this trip either, yet here we are,” he muttered back, mimicking you. You opened your mouth to comment on Ignis’s words. According to him, Noctis had insisted on coming. You have no idea what is true anymore.

“J-Just so you know, I’m not exactly fit to serve as the Shield of the King, Your Majesty.”

Your obvious information makes him chuckle.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” he nods and turns on the radio. You take it as a signal to keep your mouth shut and you keep at it till the Regalia passes through the Fallgrove.

“Are you always this quiet?” he wonders eventually.

The question has been bugging him for a while now. He’s noticed your anxiety, and girl, do you feel anxious about the trip with your King! Yet, for some reason he sees certain serenity in you at the same time. It’s like you’re oscillating between two different emotions at any given moment. It’s hard to tell in between the purr of Regalia’s engine, but occasionally he even hears you humming a melody matching the song playing on the radio.

“Only when I don’t know what to say,” you reply sincerely.

“Well, you can say anything you want,” he suggests and the car enters a long tunnel leading to the lookout over Galdin Quay.

“I hope I’ll be finished with my work as soon as possible, so I don’t keep you from your royal duties for too long.”

There it is, your one shot at saying anything you want to Noctis Lucis Caellum.

“Gee, thanks,” he frowns and keeps paying attention to the road.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but Mr Scientia sounded very concerned about our journey,” you stand your ground. “For multiple reasons, actually.”

“They were just joking,” Noct smiles warmly, “and I really appreciate that. All that kingly stuff can make things so… stiff…,” he stretches his neck a little and it cracks. “We didn’t mean to scare you, although you did look like you were about to jump over the railing right into the Taelpar Crag.”

“I can’t say it’s far from the truth,” you say breathlessly as the tunnel ends and the car is released from the darkness into the warm and sunny scenery. “Ah,” you let out a surprised moan.

You saw this place less than a month ago, yet it looks completely different now. The reconstructions progress with the speed of light.

Noctis notices your expression and answers before you even ask:

“Ms Coctura asked Lestallum for some financial and manual support. Having a nice holiday resort for everyone to relax isn’t that bad. Plus, as Ignis said, it will be good for Lucian economy in the long run.”

“I see,” you nod, as it makes perfects sense. Then, a bright smile creeps up your face. “It’s so cool how quickly things are recovering,” you comment delightfully.

_Yeah, some things. Not me though…_

“Yeah,” Noctis smiles and the Regalia starts descending the winding road to the goal of your journey.

The King parks his car in the parking lot and before he gets out, he looks at you.

“Um… Maybe don’t mention my name?” he starts slowly. You look at him and furrow your eyebrows.

“Why not? We’ve arrived in the Regalia. It’s not like every bloke and his mother has a car like this,” you argue because you don’t see the point to hide who he is.

“Yeah, I know, they’d probably recognise me anyway, BUT…,” he makes a dramatic pause, “I’ve come here in order to have some fun, not on a business.”

He gets out of the car and you follow, wondering what kind of fun he means. Maybe he’s into the sandcastle building. Noctis opens the trunk and hands you your stuff and the suitcase full of medical supplies.

“Will you handle it alone? It’s not that heavy,” he asks and it’s obvious he wants to keep his distance from the hotel on piers.

“Sure,” you nod. “Um, and what should I call you if they ask for a name of the person who gave me a ride?” you ask curiously. You’re not the best when it comes to fake names.

Neither is he.

“Call me Noct Gar,” he grins at you and removes his sword and his fishing gear and from the trunk. Your eyebrows shoot up your forehead so high it nearly disappears into your hairline.

“Noct Gar,” you repeat after him. “I don’t mean to sound insolent, Your Majesty, but… are you bullshitting me?” Noct’s grin grows even wider.

“I’m absolutely serious,” he nods and locks the car. “Give Ms Coctura Arlund His Majesty’s best regards. Oh, and Luna’s too, ok?” he adds as he’s walking off in the opposite direction of the hotel towards a small pier.

“I-I’ll pick you up when I’m done,” you call after him and he merely waves at you. “Weirdo…,” you mumble and watch him pick up his pace. Yes, he’s excited, that one.

*

Carrying all your stuff, you make your way to the hotel. Coctura Arlund meets you halfway, greets you and gives you all sorts of questions, some of them quite personal. Of course she also asks about ‘the guy fishing on the beach’. When you say his name, she almost bursts out laughing and apologises straight away. You make a mental note to ask your king about the whole Noct Gar business later, if you feel brave enough.

You spend a few hours providing some sort of health care to the occupants of the Mother of Pearl. There’s not much you can do to actually heal them without magic, but you give them your recommendations regarding their health and even share recipes to some herbal medicine they could easily make themselves. Occasionally, you glance at the pier in the distance, because you just have to. Ignis said you should keep an eye on the King and it’s the bare minimum you can do. Noct Gar seems… fine. He is constantly fishing and at one point some guy even joins him.

“That’s my uncle,” Coctura informs you as she notices your restlessness and the direction you’re staring in. “He and Mr Gar go way back.”

Mr Gar. It sounds so silly it makes you cringe. By the expression on Coctura’s face, she feels the same. She’s also most likely aware it’s just a ruse, yet she plays along. It makes things easier.

Around two o’clock in the afternoon, you’re about done with your work. You’ve eaten a delicious fish Coctura had prepared for you and, given the time, you decide it’s best if you just pack your things and leave. It’s a long way to Lestallum after all.

“Your… uh… Noct Gar, shouldn’t we be on our way?” you call to him softly as you follow the pier to two fishermen.

“Shhh, not now,” he hisses at you.

“We’re hunting a very special fish,” the older fisherman whispers and smiles at you in a friendly manner.

“O-Oh, ok,” you whisper back and instinctively try to limit your moves.

“Go for a walk or something, I’ll be done in about a half an hour,” Noct informs you and you can’t do much more than just turn around and take a walk as Noctis’s suggested.

You end up walking all across the Vannath Coast from Lachyrte Haven to the Galdin Shoals, exploring the beach and picking up some medicinal herbs you find by chance, only to seek them actively when it seems that Noct Gar’s time perception is completely different than yours.

As the sun starts disappearing in the Cygillan ocean, you grow impatient. Clinging to the old habit of hiding when the night comes, you return to the King with a cotton bag full of weeds to find Noctis reeling in something with the size of a small submarine. The older fisherman is long gone.

You try to speak to him, but he’s too concentrated on battling the heavy fish, so you end up standing there like a statue, too afraid to speak.

“Come on, don’t be shy!” he hisses at the fish and reels in so quickly your own wrist begins to hurt.

Suddenly his phone starts ringing. He ignores it till it stops, only for it to start blowing up again.

“Shit, not now!” Noct curses. “(Y/N), could you pick it up for me?! I’m busy! It’s in my back pocket.”

“A-Are you sure?” you stutter and slowly approach.

“Yes, you DO have a permission to touch my royal ass, now do it!” he barks and you quickly comply. Carefully fishing his phone out from the back pocket of his jeans as he moves around, you step back so he doesn’t hit you with his fishing rod, and accept the call.

Before you even have time to say ‘hello’, you hear a really loud roar on the other side.

“WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU, YOU VAGRANT PIECE OF SHIT?!” Gladio yells angrily. Even Noctis can hear him.

“Oh, he’s mad,” he laughs and grits his teeth as the fish starts struggling even more. You watch Noctis begrudgingly with the phone away from your ear while Gladiolus continues with the scolding. It feels like Noct had a hunch something like this was coming and used you to take the blow. You’ve literally become the Shield.

The Shield of Noct Gar.

That being said, is it really acceptable for the Shield to call his king a piece of shit?

“I-It’s me!” you squeak quickly when Gladio stops for a split second to take a deep breath.

“GET YOUR ASS BA--,” he manages to yell some more and then stops abruptly. “Oh, it’s you, (Y/N),” he lets out a little sigh of relief. You could swear Noctis sneers at the speed which his friend calms down with.

“Y-Yeah, me,” you repeat and your heart begins to race for some reason.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to shout at you, umm,” he gathers his thoughts. You picking up the phone completely ruined his plans to scold his younger friend to heavens and back. “Is he still alive? Why didn’t he pick up?” he asks slowly. You wonder if he can hear Noct’s grunting, the result of his fight with the fish.

“He’s busy,” you reply and sit down on the pier. “He’s trying to reel in a whale by the look of it,” chuckling quietly, you feel weirdly at peace for a moment.

“What? Oh no,” Gladio whines in the phone and it sounds like he turns to someone. “He’s still fishing,” he informs the unseen person. “Anyway, tell him to stop it immediately and come back already, ok? It’s late. Lady Lunafreya is getting worried,” he demands.

“Will do,” you smile as you watch a bunch of glowing barrelfish below the surface. Both of you stay silent for a few seconds - an awkward pause when the conversation happens over the phone, especially with Noct grunting and cursing in the background. You wonder why he doesn’t just end the phone call.

“Anything else?” you prod him carefully.

“Well, um,” he hesitates at first. “How are you feeling? Is he getting on your nerves?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” you reply and sudden giddiness overwhelms you senses after hearing his concerned voice. “It’s been alright so far, I mean… All Mr Gar does is fishing, so…”

“Mr Gar,” he repeats after you and you have a feeling you hear Prompto laughing his ass off in the earphone.

“Yep, fufu,” you giggle at his stunned reaction.

“What a dumbass,” Gladio curses. “Anyway, good to hear you’re alright,” he starts and sounds like he has more to say.

“YES!” Noct suddenly screams into the night as the fish finally gives up. “(Y/N), come on, lend me a hand!” he calls you to him.

“I have to go, sorry!” you apologise quickly and end the call before you can even hear Gladio say goodbye. You jump up and run to the excited king.

“Come on, let’s jump in and help me land it,” he orders you around, his eyes sparkling like those of a child in the candy store.

“Land it? You can’t be serious!” you gasp, but this destiny of yours can’t be prevented.

*

When you later sit drenched to the bone in the Regalia and freeze your buns off as you ride through Duscae, all you can smell is the damn hulk of a fish. You’re a bit annoyed, but you can’t get rid of the feeling that the whole ordeal was worth seeing the young king so happy and enraptured. It doesn’t seem to bother him his clothes are as wet as yours, and as they’re slowly drying on your bodies white salty map-like patterns appear on the fabric. You feel bad about sitting in Regalia like that, but you suppose he can afford cleaning the car seats.

“So… is that why you gave me a ride to Galdin Quay, Your Majesty?” you ask as you pass the turn to Wiz Chocobo Post. “To catch that whale?”

“Murk Grouper, not a whale,” he corrects you and keeps grinning behind the steering wheel.

“I know it’s some Grouper, but I refuse to call it that. For me it’s A WHALE,” you grimace dramatically. “I smell like a fish,” you complain and rub your temples.

You still can’t believe how you and, let’s admit it, a sort of scrawny Noctis managed to get that monstrosity in the car. Sure, he pulled the Regalia to the pier, but even dragging the grouper across the wooden surface and hoisting it up and into the trunk was exhausting.

“Like a fish?” he quickly looks at you and then mimics Ignis’s voice: “That sounds fishy.”

“Hey,” you hiss. You’re not in the mood for puns.

Out of the blue, Noctis slows down till Regalia stops on the small parking lot near the Chocobo Post.

“Your Majesty?” you look at him, silently questioning his sudden actions.

“I have a confession to make,” you smiles and turns to you. “There’s one more reason I tagged along.”

You nod a few times and pull a disappointed face. You’ve figured as much. Keeping your mouth shut for now, you let him speak.

“There’s a lot happening after the eradication of the Starscourge and daemons in Eos. Now that the world is safe again, we’re trying to piece together various kinds of information about what was going on in the different parts of Eos during the Long night. You now, to get the full picture.”

His voice sounds about five times kinder than usual. It causes your scarred eyebrow to twitch. You have a gut feeling you know where this is going.

“Well?” you growl when he stops.

“I would like to request your assistance in gathering information about Altissia and Accordo,” he finally gets to the point. His crystal blue eyes hypnotize you and you find yourself having trouble refusing his request.

“Hm,” you hum and look away. “I should have known it’s about that. You want me to tell you what was happening over the ocean in the southern isles, don’t you.”

Maybe you should have kept your mouth shut about your whereabouts, but it’s too late to regret spilling the beans now. You fidget in the car seat and let out an annoyed puff. You’ve most likely got caught in some kind of trap to make you speak. You bet the reason why Noctis took you to the Galdin Quay was to make you unable to reject his official request. Obviously, it isn’t easy to refuse the King of Lucis even if he smells like fish at that moment.

“I understand it is most likely a heavy topic for you and I don’t expect an answer right now,” he says to break the silence, “but I would appreciate if you considered --”

“I’ll do it,” you jump in. Noctis, on the other hand, jumps a little in his seat.

“What, really?” he turns from the King to the dorky guy he can be.

“Yeah, really,” you mutter quietly. The mention of ‘a heavy topic’ makes you wonder if Gladiolus mentioned your hint about prostitution running wild in Altissia to his friends.

 _Of course he did. Why he wouldn’t? It’s an important detail…_ You think to yourself and then it hits you. Your mind returns to the phone call originally directed to Noctis. You thought Gladiolus was suspiciously concerned and worried. _Well, that explains why he sounded so nice on the phone._

Your bitterness concerning Gladiolus Amicitia returns as if someone force-fed you a whole bucket of wormwood plant.

“What made you change your mind so quickly?” Noctis wonders and eyes you with curiosity, expecting some kind of a catch.

“I just want to get it over with,” you look at him almost desperately. “Those pesky Amicitia sibs probably won’t give me a break until they know,” you sputter like a frightened kitten.

Noct’s eyes widen. He would have never imagined you of all people calling the friendly and caring siblings ‘pesky’. He remembers how you used to adore them back in Insomnia. To think you sounded so serene and joyful when you talked to that big ‘pesky’ Gladio over the phone just a while ago…

You notice his shocked expression and gasp, immediately double guessing your choice of words. The malice in your voice almost makes you cry. It’s like you don’t even recognise yourself anymore.

“I-I mean…,” you breathe in to calm down. “It feels like I can’t move on until I tell someone,” you continue in a quiet voice. “And if it is for a good cause, then I guess it’s a double-win scenario, right?”

Noctis watches you for a moment and then smiles empathetically.

“Right.”

He knows where you are coming from. No matter how hard you try to mask your feelings, it’s kind of obvious the whole thing about Gladio frustrates you or even hurts you, but there’s not much that can be done besides moving on. Gladio is with someone else. Life happens.

“L-Let’s go, I need to change, I can’t stand the whale stench much longer,” you fidget in your seat again.

“Murk Grouper,” he corrects you again and stares at you. Then he gets an idea. “Hey, why don’t we switch? You used to drive, correct?” he gets out of the car suddenly and walks around to your side.

“W-What?! Your Majesty, the whole reason why you’re even here as my driver is that I haven’t driven a car in ten years! And even before that I kind of sucked! A-And it’s dark outside!” you freak out. Noct grabs your hand and pulls you out of the Regalia.

“Come on, give it a shot. Just for a few miles, ok?” he insists and you have no other option that to comply. Again.

Saying a silent prayer in your mind, your start the engine, as Noctis puts on his seatbelt. It rather shocks you when the car begins to move.

“See? It’s not that hard!” the King cheers and patiently watches you.

“To think I’m half blind, heheh,” you laugh nervously and try to pick up the pace.

It happens within a split second; a wild chocobo jumps out of the dark forest onto the road in front of the car. It’s not close enough for the Regalia to actually hit the creature however it’s more than enough to startle you. Your reaction is quick enough and you pull the Regalia to the right in panic. Unfortunately, the car runs right into the metal pole of traffic sign.

“Shit!” Noctis curses as the front of the car hits against the metal and you both are thrown against the dashboard.

Noct’s forward movement is stopped by his seatbelt. You, on the other hand, hit the steering wheel with your forehead as you’ve forgotten to fasten your seatbelt when you switched places.

The impact isn’t too hard as the royal car was running at low speed - or so you think at the very first moment - but as you try to lean back against the car seat to relax, you feel terrible pressure build up in your head, your view grows dark and you lose unconsciousness.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me too much for the cliffhanger. I promise I'll come up with the new chapter asap.
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this, even though there's hardly any Gladdy (I know, I'm repeating myself, but please bear with me!). I hope Noct Gar was worth it though. It was almost writing itself so it's a bit longer than previous chapters. I worked on it mostly in breaks between work (suddenly there's huge workload after months of no work at all, it's fishy... heh.)  
> I have a feeling MC is getting more and more bitter. I guess it's understandable, but there's only so much bitterness a person can take before they snap (?). I feel so bad for Gladio and Iris, I think MC is saying things even though she doesn't really mean it.
> 
> Thank you for kudos and comments! It's amazing to see someone is actually reading it (besides my friends), considering I'm not an established writer in FFXV fandom. If you have any feedback, please share <3


	7. Somewhere in Between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a minor car crash following your trip to Galdin Quay, the Amicitia siblings arrive to pick you and Noctis up. As it turns out, it all happens on a very special night.

The unexpected turn of events leaves young King Noctis second guessing his life choices of past few minutes.

“Shit,” he hisses as he witnesses you collapsing against the steering wheel of the Regalia in front of his eye. His own neck hurts from the recoil of the impact, but at least he’s still lucid. He quickly leans in to support your limp body.

“Hey, (Y/N), come on,” he speaks to you and pats your cheek in quick repeating motion. “Don’t die on me, ok?”

You let out a quiet and painful moan and open your eyes a little.

“W-What? What happened?” you ask and try to focus on him. You feel so disoriented. Noctis lets out a huff of relief, gets out of the car and pulls you out as well. He sits you down on the asphalt road against the guardrail right under the road lamp so he may check you carefully.

“You’ve hit yourself in the head,” he mumbles as he watches the bruise in the middle of your forehead.

“O-Oh… Oh yeah,” you mumble and your head begins to fall down to your chest. Noctis cups your cheek and slaps the other side of your face again.

“No, don’t faint again,” he urges you. It doesn’t look like there’s any type of fracture on your skull, but who knows? There might be some internal bleeding in your brain. You pant again and close your eyes. “No!” he hisses in frustration. “Shit, he’s gonna kill me for this.” Fearing for your life - and his - he calls his friends for help.

*

No matter how urgently the King pleads for your attention, you keep slipping in and out of the consciousness like a dolphin jumping through the waves except with less grace.

“My head hurts so much,” you complain as he moves you from the road to the back seat of his car. It’s not a good idea to keep you sitting on the cold asphalt in wet clothes.

“Help is on the way,” he assures you and looks at his watch nervously. It’s been an hour and they still haven’t arrived, which is understandable given the distance, but still. Then, he finally gets a phone call. You don’t pay much attention to it. When he shoves the phone back into his back pocket, he starts the engine.

“Hn? W-We’re leaving?” you moan and try to look at him, but the change of position makes your head hurt like hell. It’s almost like a really bad case of migraine. You hiss in pain and your head collapses back on the padding of the backseat.

“We’re meeting them at Alstor Coernix Station,” he replies and sounds a bit relieved. “They should be there soon.”

“The Regalia can… make it?” You care about the damn car more than your own health.

“Heh, worry about yourself first,” he chuckles. “It looks like hood’s been damaged along with the right headlights. Nothing Cindy Aurum couldn’t manage,” he calms you down.

“O-Ok,” you whine and stare at the starry sky above you. If your head wasn’t hurting so badly and your view wasn’t a bit fuzzy, you’d really enjoy what you see.

Noctis parks the car in the parking lot and looks at you.

“Think you can make it to the diner?” he asks you patiently.

“I can try, but I’ll need a hand,” you reply as you try to sit up slowly. You can’t help but grunt in discomfort as Noctis walks you slowly to the small building. The Crow’s Nest diners were one of the first businesses to recover after the Long night - everyone needs junk food, right? Noct is hoping he can make you sit inside to warm you up a bit, but you stop just in front of the stairs to the diner.

“I can’t, the smell of frying oil makes me sick,” you gag and back out, almost falling to the ground. Gravity and head injuries don’t mix together very well. “I need to sit down…,” you whine as Noctis prevents you from falling.

“Alright,” he sighs and looks around. “Here, sit next to Kenny,” his lips twitch as he ushers you to sit on a shabby looking bench next to the Crow’s Nest mascot. He’s seen better days; the paint on his beak is almost completely rubbed off. You don’t seem to care as you immediately lean into Kenny’s embrace to doze off again. “Hey, I’ll get you something to drink. What would you like?” Noctis gently squeezes your hand to get your attention.

“A glass of water or coke. Y-Yeah, coke would be great,” you mumble. Coke could help you with the sickness, although you’re not sure if it applies to the sickness caused by a head injury.

“As you wish,” Noctis smiles and looks behind him. Another car enters the parking lot area, one that he knows very well. “Oh, here they are, those pesky Amicitia sibs,” he taunts you, pats your shoulder, waves at the car and then enters the diner on his own.

 _Oh shit!_ You think and start to shiver all over your body from the fear. _He’s going to kill me. Uh._ You can’t help it - tears start rolling down your cheeks. You feel so stupid, but there’s no room for common sense when you head hurts like this.

“(Y/N)!” Iris calls your name and runs to you as soon as she gets out of the car. You wonder for a split second if pretending you’re still knocked out could be the way to save your life from the wrath of the Shield, but you’re slow to act upon your decision. “Oh my, you look terrible,” she comments as she kneels in front of you. You try to avoid any eye contact; you wouldn’t see her properly through all those tears anyway. “Let me take this off, ok?” She starts taking fof your eye patch and you immediately freak out.

“N-No, I don’t wanna!” you grab her wrist to stop her. Iris glances behind her shoulder at her brother who’s frowning at the sight of you. You try to look at him, but you don’t see much. However, you can tell he’s mad. There’s this weird, dangerous aura about him.

“Iris, make her take it off,” Gladio says in a rumbly voice and you whine in disagreement, although you know more than anyone that those tight leather straps just increase your headache.

“You’ve heard Gladdy,” Iris smiles apologetically at you and carefully takes your eye patch off. The relief is almost instant and you let out a content sigh. “See?” she giggles. You cover your eyes with your hand; partially so you can rub your temples and partially to hide your scar as much as you can. Out of all people on Eos, Gladio is the last one you want to show your eye injury to. You know it’s too late though. He’s staring at your tear-stained face, his expression completely unreadable.

“I’ll go have a talk with Noct,” he says menacingly and enters the diner. A few second later you and Iris hear loud bickering. Alarmed, you raise your head and try to get up so you can see through the window.

“Oh, don’t get up! Cuddle to Kenny some more, ok?” Iris stops you and presses you back to the bench. “How are you feeling?” she asks when you settle down.

“T-Terrible. I hit my head against the steering wheel… I think?” you try to recollect the accident. You were talking to Noct about something important, then you switched seats for some reason, there was a wild chocobo… You hate being disoriented and confused like this! “The impact wasn’t too strong though. It’s… it’s just a concussion I think,” you diagnose yourself immediately. All the symptoms match.

“I hope you’re right,” she sighs and brushes her thumb over the bump on your head. The skin is turning nasty shade of blue and is hot to touch. “It looks like you’re growing a horn,” she tries to joke and you giggle a little. “Now, why are you crying?” she asks as if she was talking to a small child.

You give her a deadly stare from the gap between your fingers and whisper eerily.

“They’re gonna kill me.”

“Uh? Who is?” she blinks at you.

“The royal retinue. I’ve almost fucked His Majesty up,” you explain. Iris’s eyebrows shoot up at the swear word you use and then she starts laughing.

“I don’t think you’re the one in trouble,” she giggles. The bickering inside the diner continues. “Well, maybe Ignis might scold you a little,” she admits in the end.

The noise from the diner stops and Gladio walks out with a cup of coke to go. Noctis follows and pretends like nothing has happened, although he looks a bit… disheveled? Yes, disheveled, that’s the word.

“Here, Iris, take it,” Gladio hands the cup to his sister and looks at you. “We’ll take her with us. His Majesty can drive on his own.”

“Gotcha,” Iris takes the cup and heads to their car.

“Can you stand?” he asks you. He sounds much calmer now and the manner of his speech is somewhat caring.

“I can try,” you mutter and holding to Kenny Crow for support, you slowly get up. The world starts spinning around you again. Gladiolus grunts like a tired Behemoth and pulls you closer.

“Come on, you Mesmenir,” he says jokingly and before you realise what’s happening, he effortlessly carries you to the car bridal style. “Noct, what’s that, she’s totally wet!” he growls at the king as soon as his big hands touch your damp clothes.

You notice Noct behind him and stare at him.

“What are you talking about?” Noctis grins. It sounds questionable to say the least.

“Noct, I’m warning you,” Gladio looks at him. “You’ve made her help you with the fish, right? Geez.”

“Pesky, huh?” Noctis grins at you when his friend turns his face away but your stare still lingers on him. He more or less spells those words silently at you. Pesky, huh. You just frown, realising you’re blushing and press your face against Gladio’s shoulder to hide your scar.

You feel him shudder in surprise - for a good reason. You’ve been so distant and avoidant, and now this? He lets out an amused chuckle as he places you on the backseat. You lay down, even though it’s not the safest position to travel in.

“I’ll take it slow, tell me when you need me to stop, ok?” he says and covers you in some sort of blanket. You raise your head and frown a little.

“W-What are you talking about?” you ask the same question Noct has asked a few moments ago and Gladio blinks obliviously.

“Oh,” he finally gets the unintentional ambiguity of his words and grins. “Maybe later?” he winks at you and you feel your consciousness fail you again.

“Gladdy, that was uncalled for,” Iris scolds her flirt of a brother and punches his shoulder. Gladiolus waits till Noct leaves in the Regalia and then follows, just to keep his eyes on the king.

*

All the way to Lestallum, you keep zoning out. You want to believe it’s because your recent lack of sleep and hope your head injury isn’t that bad. You somehow register your return to Lestallum and getting carried somewhere by Gladiolus. There might be even Prompto and Ignis, you’re not sure.

As soon as you realise they’ve brought you to Lunafreya’s hospital, you begin to protest like a toddler. You’d prefer to just go home as you are sure you can handle this case of concussion on your own. It’s not the first time after all.

No matter how loud they are your protests are cut short when Lady Lunafreya sends everyone away so she can change your clothes. You look at her with some sort of grudge and then mutter quietly as you sit up on the bed:

“I… I can change on my own. In fact, I’d prefer to do it myself.”

Luna looks at you for what seems like an eternity and then nods empathetically.

“Alright. I’ll wait behind the door. If you need me, just call me,” she says and leaves the room with a melancholic smile to give you some privacy. You change into a bag-like white nightgown as quickly as your current state allows you and then call Luna back.

“I’m sorry,” you apologise because you feel nasty for refusing her generous help. “I just don’t want others to see my body,” you mumble and spread your limbs across the bed. “I do have a lot of scars,” you add an explanation.

“I understand,” she smiles and hands you some painkillers. It’s the least she can do for you at that moment. You look at the pills in your palm and grin at her.

“Hell yes, thanks,” you say gratefully, downing them with a glass of water the next second. “I hope they kick in fast,” you sigh and cover your eyes with your hand. You doubt they will, they never do.

“(Y/N), I wish I could stay and look after you over night, but I have a party to attend and I’m already late,” Lunafreya apologises as she informs you you’ll be left all alone.

“Hm? A party? Sounds like fun,” you try to sound polite, even though you’re not exactly up to holding conversation. “What is it?” you wonder to keep your mind occupied from the pain.

“A bachelorette party,” she says quietly. Her words hang over you like blade of a guillotine. It’s not that hard to guess whose party it is.

“Well, what are you waiting for? I don’t want to hold you off,” you force a smile and silently question yourself why are you even trying. There’s no need to play a game of pretend with The Oracle.

“I’ll have someone look after you in case you need anything. Don’t be scared to ask for help if you need it, ok?” she squeezes your hand soothingly.

“Sure,” you nod, but you’re sure you wouldn’t ask for anyone’s help even if you fell off the bed and couldn’t get up.

Lunafreya smiles at you, wishes you good night and leaves you alone in the room. You try not to think about what she told you about her tonight’s plans and due to your hurting head you manage to fall asleep soon after.

*

You woke up to the quiet snoring in your ear, but it’s not the reason your body left the sweet solace of slumber.

Last night, after you’d met with the four friends at the Coernix Station at Alstor, you’d ended up camping with them and talking about what’d happened in Insomnia after Niflheim attack. You’d been very distressed and sad about possibly losing your parents, but so where Noct and his company. So, to calm down a little and stay in company of someone you knew and felt safe with, you tagged along that night.

Ignis had cooked some delicious food and you’d ended up drinking till late hours. After that, all five of you crammed in Gladio’s tent, you went to bed and hoped your poor heart can handle sleeping in a tent with so many guys.

Now, in the middle of the night, your bladder decided to ask for your attention. You reluctantly wormed your way from under Gladio’s heavy arm. As much as you didn’t want to leave the warmth of your shared sleeping bag - Gladio’s sleeping bag was extra large because he was a big guy and found it more comfortable - you had no choice but to obey your bodily needs.

“Uh… Don’t wiggle around,” Gladio mumbled quietly and stopped you. You quickly looked at the other three boys to see if any of them woke up as well. All of them seemed to be fast asleep.

“I need to pee,” you whispered and looked at him. You felt his grip release your forearm, albeit reluctantly.

“Want me to go with you?” he offered. He wasn’t really comfortable with the idea of you going all alone with all the darkness outside. Daemons could hurt you.

“No, I want to pee in peace,” you smiled at him and affectionately pinched the skin on the back of his hand. He grinned at you and pulled you in for a quick kiss.

“Don’t stray too far, ok? If something happens, just scream,” he reminded you before letting you go. He knew you were very careful, but as a healer you were a non-combatant class of sorts and most likely wouldn’t be able to protect yourself if daemons attacked you.

You took his words to heart, went about your business and when you returned, you found him checking his phone while he waited for you.

“That’s my girl,” he grinned when you entered the tent.

“You sound like I have no idea how to relieve myself. Just stop it,” you muttered, feeling your cheeks growing hot.

“Relieve you say?” he murmured and his eyebrows twitched suggestively. You slapped his butt to make him stop. “Ouch!” he hissed even though you doubted he could even feel it through the sleeping bag. “I’m just glad you didn’t get eaten by an Iron Giant,” he smiled to appease you and made some space for you. You crawled to him, trying not to accidentally step on Ignis, and soon after you were back in the sleeping bag with him.

“Hmm,” you hummed happily. It was so nice to be back in the warmth as it was quite cold outside due to the large body of water nearby - Alstor Slough. His closeness was so soothing and did wonders to keep your thoughts away from the fate of Insomnia.

“Feeling better?” he asked you and embraced your body inside the sleeping bag as he pressed his chest against your back. You purred in reply and wiggled around a bit to get comfortable. “Settle down,” he muttered and when you complied, he lazily removed your hair from the back of your neck and pressed his hot lips against your skin.

You shuddered at the contact and tried to look at him to find out what was he up to. Before you got a chance to speak, he removed his lips from your neck and silenced you with a kiss. Another round of good night kisses, maybe? Your assumption slowly waned as the kiss was going on and on you realised it’s more than that. Trying to take the helm at least for a while, you sensually licked his upper lip so he would let you deepen the kiss. Soon, your tongue met his and you felt a whole series of chemical reactions erupting within your body. Besides Ignis’s dinner he still tasted a bit like booze, and you had no doubts it was one of the reasons he was kissing you like that. After all, even you felt a residue of alcohol clouding your mind.

“A-ah,” you moaned in surprise when his hand joined the party suddenly. His arm had been innocently hugging you so far, but his long fingers started roaming over jour chest as he grew impatient. “Gladio,” you whispered his name in between the heated kisses.

“Ssh, quiet,” he murmured and slipped his hand under your cotton shirt. His fingers were colder than your skin and the sensation of them pressing against your soft meat sent please shivers down your spine. His huge hand cupped your left breast and fondled it, pinching your nipple playfully.

You’d grown accustomed to his habit of playing with your breasts. Even though your intimate moments were still really innocent, you often ended up topless with your chest pressed against his. That’s however as far he would go. He was always very patient with you, which didn’t really explain the situation you were stuck in right now.

“I love your tits, dammit,” he growled under his breath in your ear as he switched the breasts to give both of them an equal amount of attention. You blushed deeply at his words and realised how much his kisses, caress, and whispering affected you. You could be mistaken, but you were positive you felt annoying dampness between your legs. He might have sensed it too, because eventually his hand left your chest and moved lower, to your abdomen and further on.

“Hn,” you gasped as he slipped his big hand into your panties and his fingertips brushed against your soft pubic hair. You heard him chuckle quietly and wondered what it was supposed to mean. You really hoped he wasn’t disappointed that you weren’t shaved clean, but he didn’t leave you any room to worry about that. As his lips nipped at your neck again, his digits gently slipped between your folds.

You took a deep breath and held it in your hurting lungs to keep yourself from moaning. The last think you’d want was to wake up the others. In spite of that, when he pressed his wide thumb against the sensitive pearl of nerves and rubbed it a bit too forcefully, you couldn’t keep yourself composed any longer and whimpered inaudibly.

“Quiet, you don’t want to give Prompto a boner, do you?” he whispered a playful warning next to your ear and slowly pushed fingers of his other hand beyond the breach of your lips. Needless to say, it almost pushed you over the edge because having two of his fingers in your mouth while his other hand toyed with your intimate parts was too much.

How you wished you two were alone in this cursed tent! You wanted to let him know how amazing it all felt so badly, yet you had to keep quiet or else your voice would fail you. With tears pooling in the corners of your eyes, you began erotically sucking on his fingers, imagining it’s something completely different.

“That’s it, good girl,” he murmured contently and decided to reward you. His middle finger circled around your tight entrance and then penetrated your body without warning. “You’re drenched,” he said to you mockingly and you wanted to retort he didn’t need to tell you because you were aware of it yourself. Instead, you just bit down on his fingers. He hissed quietly and surprised you by pushing another of his fingers into your wetness. You felt unpleasant pressure, followed by sharp but brief pain as something down there gave in and he pushed his fingers past your barrier.

“Hn!” you whimpered and shivered in brief discomfort. Gladio stamped your temple with gentle kisses. Wondering if what you thought really happened, you started to relax. He’d never even touched you down there besides some provocative rubbing through clothes, yet something like this was happening now? Grabbing his forearm and digging your fingernails into his tattooed skin, you contemplated stopping him.

“Relax,” you could hardly hear his order whispered just above his breath, but you instinctively obeyed him. He was stretching you almost painfully with his fingers, but as he began to pull them out and push them back again, you got quickly used to the sensation. After a few movements of his wrist to test the waters, he found a rhythm that suited you the best. Intense and not too quick, you felt juices mixed with your blood run down your butt cheek. You would be such a mess the next morning…

Doing your best to stay quiet as a mouse, you had trouble keeping your voice down whenever he moved his digits a bit more forcefully and pressed his fingers against a certain spot within your body. You wished he would just stop as you were about to wake everyone up with your impending climax. Then again, you wanted to come so badly!

“Don’t fight it,” he encouraged you to let go, and that’s what you did. As he pressed against your most sensitive spots again, really hard this time, you came. Your body trembled and your muscles squeezed his fingers like a vice. From there, it was a long fall into the abyss. He judged correctly you might lose the control of your voice, pulled his fingers out of your mouth and muffled your loud moan with the palm of his hand.

“Heheh,” he chuckled like some sort of villain and waited till tremors of your pleasure die down. “Easy,” he kissed you on your temple again.

Eventually, you relaxed in his arms enough for him he could pull his fingers out of you. He brought them to his mouth to have a taste. He twitched with sudden realisation. The taste of you was suspiciously metallic.

“Hey, did I hurt you?” he mumbled and made you turn your head to him. Your face was so flushed and cute as you were slowly drifting off to sleep. “You were really a virgin?” he growled. You nodded silently. You’d told him about dozen times in the past. It was his fault he didn’t believe you. You wanted to say something to poke fun of him, but you couldn’t. He was frustrated enough as it was, clearly regretting his actions. You, on the other hand, didn’t regret a thing.

“Shit, I thought you were pulling my leg,” he grunted silently. “Sorry.” You lazily brushed your fingers through his tousled hair, affectionately rubbing your thumb against the extra short hair on the sides of his head, and kissed the left corner of his lips softly.

“Please do it properly next time,” you whined into the silence of the tent, asking him to forge an agreement with you.

“Please get a room next time,” Ignis’s voice cut through the heavy air like one of his cleavers cut through a chunk of meat. He wasn’t the only one though. Snorting and giggling of prince Noctis and Prompto were quick to follow.

“Fuck you, guys,” Gladiolus growled and squeezed you in a bear hug protectively before you started to freak out.

*

Your left eyelid flies open instantly. You stare into the darkness of the unfamiliar room. Your head hurts like someone kicked you in it and you’re feeling sick again. As you start remembering the circumstances of your current whereabouts, you realise you’re feeling not only sick, but also rather hot and bothered.

“S-Shit,” you curse, sit up on the bed and then punch your pillow, as you remember the memory your head has just let you live through again. “Not fair,” you whine and feel a bit like crying.

In order to get rid of the sickness, you get out of the bed and wobble your way to the toilet. You manage to throw up and it makes your stomach feel a little bit better. As you return to your room, you abruptly stop in the doorway.

Gladiolus stands next to your empty bed and watches you.

“I’ve heard movement from downstairs and came to check on you,” he explains his presence because you stare at him as if he was a Grim Reaper. “Are you feeling better?” he wonders and makes a few steps forward as you begin to wobble to the bed. Your balance is practically non-existent, so he catches you around your hips and leads you to the bed himself.

You want to scream at him and push him away, but you’re in no shape to do either of those things. Pushing his hands away as soon as you reach the bed, you climb in and bury yourself with the blanket.

“So the one looking after me is you?” you ask bitterly and glare at him.

“Yep, that’s right,” he nods and sits at the edge of your bed boldly. Maybe he’s hoping you’ll try to kick him out, just so he can get some sort reaction out of you.

“Well, you don’t have to be looking after me,” you mutter and look him in the eyes. “It’s a concussion, not an impending death.” You hear your voice grow softer as the eye contact continues. Even though his eyes are framed with wrinkles, those dark honey irises are still as you remember them.

“I’m curious,” he shrugs as if he couldn’t help it. Instead of asking, your eyebrows twitch and he takes it as a cue to continue: “About your impending change into a Mesmenir. Here, for your forehead.”

“Hm,” you puff in annoyance and take a cold wet towel Gladio hands you.

“Good girl,” he smiles at you. He can’t stop observing you. You’re still as pretty as the girl in his memories, but it’s mostly your injured eye and your scar that intrigue him.

“Cut that ‘good girl’ crap,” you bark and your head starts hurting a bit more because of the stress. “And go home while you’re at it, alright?” you sigh and rub your left eye as you press the wet towel against the bump on your forehead.

“I don’t want to do either of those things,” he shakes his head stubbornly. You wiggle on the bed and turn on your side so he can stare at your back for a change.

“Why not? Your intended must be waiting. Surely she’s back by now,” you sigh into the pillow and your grip on the blanket tightens. “She’d be furious if she knew you’re here.”

“So you know about the bachelorette, huh?” he snorts.

“Lady Luna mentioned something about running late,” you reply. Your eyesight is getting a bit cloudy and this time it’s not because of the concussion.

“Well, yeah. They’re still out so there’s no hurry,” he admits. Your head starts hurting even more as you’re fighting of tears.

Why is he doing this? Admitting his fiancée is holding her bachelorette party at this very moment, yet he stays here with you? For what? To make sure you’re alright? Or to talk? At this point there’s very little to talk about. If he has any questions about your stay in Altissia, he can read the report after you have the official talk with the King and the Hand.

“Perfect, I’ve caused both Iris and Lady Luna to arrive late to the big party,” you laugh with emotion from somewhere between cynicism and mockery. Both young women were held up by dealing with your injury. “What a killjoy I am…”

Gladiolus silently watches your trembling shoulders. Somewhere in the secret dimension between your two bodies there’s a whole ocean of words he’s amassed during the years if, by some crazy chance, he reunited with you. Now you’re here, right in front of him, and he has no idea how to say them, because he’s abandoned that chance of reunion long ago.

“Yeah, you are a killjoy, (Y/N),” he admits finally.

His agreement with your silly statement feels like a kick in the guts. You didn’t exactly expect him to deny your sour words, but admitting they’re true? Ouch.

 _Maybe I should have just died in Altissia_ , you think resentfully and wipe a tear from the corner of your left eye with your thumb.

“J-Just leave,” you heave with difficulties and pull your blanket higher. “I can take care of myself if I need anything,” you mumble as your voice shatters into quiet sobs.

He takes a deep breath, yet doesn’t say anything. Suddenly you feel his large hand on the top of your head and his rough fingers brush through your hair with breathtaking gentleness.

“Try to get some sleep,” he says and just as you’re about to snap at him, he leans down and kisses the top of your head. “Good night,” he murmurs, stands up and turns the lights off on the way out of your room.

You lie in your bed, motionless like a statue. When it finally hits you, you feel like he’s just carved your chest open and poured a whole bucket of salt into the wound. Once again you repeat your desperate whine:

“N-Not fair…”

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I did (Yay for smut) :D I have a lot of thoughts about this chapter, the MC and Gladiolus. At this point I really think it would be best for her to just move out of Lestallum, heh. The poor thing.
> 
> If you have any thoughts, please drop a comment. (Do I sound desperate? I just love interaction with readers!)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	8. A Sorta Fairytale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I believe I deserve some ice cream._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of physical abuse/rape, mentions of mutilation
> 
> I've revised rating; Mature->Explicit. Added some tags.

The morning is the same as all of your Lestallum mornings. Quick breakfast, walk to the market to get one day worth of groceries, return to your shabby apartment.

It’s been a week since the car accident. As you’d thought, it was a concussion. The disorientation and lack of balance mended themselves in a few days. Your head still hurt occasionally, but it’s nothing you couldn’t handle. You’ve spent three days in the hospital under Lunafreya’s care and by the time you were allowed to go ‘home’, you almost didn’t want to. The hospital mattress was so much more comfortable than that pathetic excuse of a thing you sleep on usually!

You’ve also returned to both of your works, but you can tell Lady Luna is going pretty easy on you. She even lets you sleep during your breaks and makes you stop working every two hours by preparing you a cup of tea. In a way, you find it endearing. It’s slowly making you enjoy your new job more and more.

Today, however, is the day when you have a meeting planned with the king regarding the whole Altissia business. You’ve been thinking about it the whole night which, as expected, cost you some hours of precious sleep.

As you walk towards the building where Noctis officially resides as the King of Lucis, the biggest and the most luxurious house in the town, you feel your stomach performing a whole regimen of gymnastics.

“I hope my breakfast can stay where it is,” you mumble to yourself as you slowly walk up the stairs.

Of course you’ve been second guessing your promise to the King! You know it’s only up to you what you’re going to say, but you’re still uncertain. Should you say all of it, down to every gruesome detail? Just the main story and keep the nasty bits to yourself? Maybe you could keep it general and totally skip your point of view along with your feelings and everything. Then again, the scar on your face would be a clear sign there’s more story to tell.

_Aaah, stop, just stop it. You’ll see how it goes when you get there. IF you get there._

You scold yourself as you reach your goal. One deep breath, into the building you go. The whole time interval starting with entering till the moment a pair big wooden doors leading to the meeting room open in front of you is really fuzzy and you know you won’t be able to recall any details later on.

“They are waiting, Ms Salvia,” a very young man opens the door in front of you and your heart skips one or two beats, maybe even three.

The meeting room is huge, but not necessarily due to its actual size. Something about the atmosphere makes you feel tiny and insignificant. King Noctis sits at the head of a long table, on his right side sits Ignis and the chair on Noct’s left is empty - a spot reserved for you, perhaps?

There are also the others. In fact, the whole long table is lined with people, members of the Crownsguard judging by their uniform colours. You see Prompto waving at you, you see Marshall Leonis’s stern look. Of course, the Shield is also present. Out of the sea of eyes fixed at you, his stare hurts you the most.

“Your Majesty,” you bow, trying to get rid of the feeling you’ve stared at them in disbelief a bit too long. You’ve not expected all these people to be present. Slowly, the desperation sets in and your stomach starts to act up.

“Good morning, (Y/N),” Noctis smiles at you when you raise your eyes back to him. “We’ve been expecting you.”

_No shit, I can tell._

“Please have a seat,” Ignis beckons to the empty chair in front of him.

You take a deep breath and try to take a first step, but you can’t. The atmosphere is too heavy for you and it’s smothering your willingness to tell your story. Not only that, with each passing second you’re feeling more and more hysterical.

_Calm down. Don’t make a scene. You can do this. Speak. Now!_

You swallow to ease the tension in your throat and slowly raise two fingers.

“Two people,” you say and your voice sounds way louder than you’ve intended. It sounds quite desperate too.

“Hm?” Noctis frowns and his eyes grow more intense.

_Go on, pull it together. You can’t back out now. Say it!_

“There’s no way I’m talking in front of all these people,” you hear your voice leave your mouth, somehow forming a coherent sentence. “Two people, that’s my limit.”

The number two is significant. You anticipate the King and Ignis Scientia being those who stay and talk to you. You’ve set up your limit with only one thing in mind: keeping Gladiolus Amicitia out of this.

Noctis looks at his friends. He doesn’t even look too surprised.

“You realise our meeting will be logged, don’t you?” Ignis warns you. “ _Everyone_ present in this room will know the contents of the log sooner or later.” You immediately pick up the emphasis on the word ‘everyone’.

 _Do I realise? Of course I do! I wish I could tell the world, I need to get this burden off my chest! But I don’t need a room full of mostly men staring at me as I pour my heart out!_ Your mind goes on a rant and you can only hope none of it shows on your face.

“I’m aware of that, Mr Scientia, and I really don’t mind. I just don’t feel comfortable talking about my experiences in front of so many people,” you say in calm voice.

“Told you,” you hear Gladiolus murmur to Ignis. He looks at Noctis, awaiting his signal. One nod of that clean shaven royal chin - that’s all it takes to make all the Crownsguard members get up and start leaving the meeting room. Perplexed, you move to the side and stare at them in shock. Who could have expected - it actually worked!

“Break a leg!” Prompto grins at you when he walks out of the door.

As Gladio passes you, he gently pats your shoulder. You give him a confused look as you have no idea why he did that. For comfort, perhaps? Who knows; you have other things to focus on right now.

Eventually, the doors close, separating you, the King, and the Hand of the King from the rest of the world.

“Is this setup more to your liking, Ms (Y/N)?” Ignis clears his throat.

“It is. I’m grateful,” you nod and finally approach them. “Tell me, it was intentional, wasn’t it,” you question the whole situation. All the Crownsguard members were quite quick to leave.

“Well, partially,” he smiles cunningly.

“Ignis wanted to see if you go along with it,” Noctis grins apologetically as Ignis shrugs.

“It would save us trouble distributing the report to everyone,” he explains. “By the way, I wasn’t lying when I said all the people will know in the end. On top of that, it will be shared with Ms Camelia Claustra, the first secretary of Accordo.”

“Sure, I have no problem with that,” you say and sit down on the offered chair, “but I doubt I’m the only person willing to speak. I bet Ms Claustra has a plethora of people to hear the story of Accordo from.”

You immediately think of your good friend Lucian. The man was a great storyteller and you can totally see him tell the first secretary all the juicy details as long as she buys him a drink.

“Of course she has,” Ignis admits. “Just as we do.”

“Oh,” you twitch and wonder if you should start questioning your presence here altogether.

“The reason why you’re our go-to person is simple: we don’t feel the need to verify your truthfulness,” Noctis explains and smiles at you. You can’t help but smile back.

“I guess I’m honoured, my liege,” you nod at him.

“Now, (Y/N), as I’ve just said this meeting shall be recorded and the information you decide to share with us will reach the public sooner or later. You have one last chance to refuse the cooperation,” Ignis says a bit too ceremoniously for your tastes.

“No, I’m not backing out now,” you shake your head. “Let’s get it over with.”

“Very well,” the Hand nods, grabs a fountain pen, uncaps it and posts the cap on the back end of the pen. You stare at his hands speechlessly which doesn’t escape Noct’s attention.

“Just wait till you see his handwriting. Not bad for a blind man,” he says proudly.

“Come now, it’s nothing special,” Ignis smirks smugly.

“A-Are you going to write all that down by hand?” you gasp.

“Well they do call me the Hand of the King,” he jokes and then points the pen at the upper corner of the room. You look up - great, there’s camera pointed at you.

_So I guess it means they could be watching in real time, huh…_

“This is mostly for notes and my thoughts,” Ignis explains and nods at Noctis.

“Let’s start,” Noctis speaks and asks you the first question: “What happened after we’d parted with you in Altissia?”

You take a deep breath and your words start flowing with astonishing ease.

“After the rampage of the Tidemother that left the city of Altissia badly damaged, I was in the first line to take care of the injured, as you probably remember,” you say with heavy heart. No matter how optimistic things are now, back then you felt nothing but despair over The Oracle’s passing and Ignis’s blindness. There was nothing you could do to help the four friends.

“When you guys left, we gathered the injured in the Leville hotel, opened some sort of temporary hospital and since that moment I operated from there. Things got better, reconstruction of the city was starting, and then--,” you stop to gather your thoughts. The scratching of Ignis’s fountain pen nib on the crisp white paper makes you a bit uneasy.

“The Long night came. The city sank into panic, no one knew what to do, streets became unsafe. Eventually the authorities launched an evacuation plan to move all citizens to Lestallum as we heard all refugees gathered there. I wasn’t in a hurry. Leville was safe for the most part and I felt I should stay as long as needed. My staff and I were scheduled to leave in the fourth wave, but we heard the third one turned tragic. Apparently people died at sea after the ships with refugees got attacked by daemons. Our escape got postponed and that was a big mistake, because all these weird, dangerous people started to pour in Altissia.”

“Can you be more specific, please?” Ignis asks in gentle yet insistent voice.

“All sorts of criminals. There were smugglers, thieves, a few groups even acted as some sort of crime syndicate. There was a lot to gain in the abandoned city of riches. Since Lestallum became a headquarters for the Crownsguard and the Hunters, I guess all the weirdos Eos had to offer set sail for Accordo,” you sigh heavily.

“How the change of populace affected you?” Noctis wonders and crosses his arms on his chest.

“The Leville more or less acted like both the hotel and the hospital. No one asked us if they could stay the night, but they more or less tolerated us and we were the go-to place whenever there was someone hurt. We made friends even among the scariest of men. Unfortunately, it all changed about two years into the Long Night,” you gulp and take a while to continue. The memories are so hard to revisit…

“Would you like a biscuit?” Ignis asks all of a sudden and pushes a small porcelain bowl full of delicious baked treats to you. You smile awkwardly and take one.

“One night, a group of cutthroats stormed in and basically commandeered the whole place. It was terrible: we tried to talk to them, we offered to move out to let them keep the hotel in peace, but they wouldn’t listen. They ended up killing all men among my staff,” your voice breaks off and you squeeze the biscuit in your hand, the chocolate chips smearing your fingers. So many of your friends died that night and there was once again nothing you could do.

Noctis looks at Ignis. They didn’t expect this to be easy, but he was concerned about you.

“It’s alright, take your time,” Noctis says compassionately. The scratching of the fountain pen stops for a while as Ignis runs out of ideas for now. The silence drags on till you gather enough courage to continue again.

“With only women left, it was obvious what was coming next,” you take a deep breath. “One of the girls died afterwards because they’d treated her too roughly. We thought they would leave us be when they finally sated their carnal needs, but nah, that was not happening - those assholes were there to stay. Since they had a bunch of helpless women at their disposal, they realised they could make some profit and turned the whole place into a brothel. I don’t know what got into me, but I’ve… made some sort of agreement with their leader. We were to work as prostitutes, but I insisted on providing the medical care as well. He agreed; they would protect us from the daemons and we would be able to continue treating the injured, but we had to sell our bodies and I would become a Madam of sorts while also becoming his personal toy - there’s no other way to put it,” you hiss helplessly and take a bite of the biscuit.

“We realised some of his men weren’t as terrible as the others after all - thinking about it now, I know they were all despicable human trash, but in a situation like that we latched onto any type of relief we could find. The news about the Leville becoming a brothel spread quickly and more men came, all those smugglers, thieves, many of them became our patrons. Business bloomed, we got new girls…”

You speak with incredible serenity and you have no idea where is it coming from. Could it be that you find solace in the fact you’re finally able convey your experiences to the third party? All you know is you can’t stop now. You are so close to breaking into tears and you can’t afford crying in front of the King even though you’re absolutely positive they wouldn’t hold it against you.

“And like that, years went by,” you continue. “I was doing all I could to maintain health of my girls. Using my knowledge of medicine, I made all sorts of contraceptive pills for them, those you take to prevent pregnancy and those you take to end it. Some of the girls chose to carry the babies to term - a damn stupid idea given the situation we were in, if you ask me. Only one kid made it through the Night, she’s about five now. As the Starscourge spread, many of the girls got infected. I remember assisting at childbirth of one of the infected girls. She started turning mid-delivery- it wasn’t pretty,” you want to rub your face with your left hand, but notice it’s stained with chocolate, so you start to lick your fingers instead.

“Of course, many of the men got infected too. At least the scourge wasn’t picky… With the situation getting worse all across Altissia, the men managing the Leville got a bit out of hand. It’s like there was nothing to lose for them, you know? I was about to give up, I was fed up of that life and wanted to just end it all,” you mumble weakly. “The leader of the cutthroats got Starscourge and I knew it was only a matter of time till he would kill us all. In the end, the mother of the only surviving child gave me a proper beating for acting like a loser,” chuckling quietly, you grab another biscuit and stuff it in your mouth. The sugar helps a little.

“So you made a run for it in the end?” Noctis asks patiently. You watch the gold nib of Ignis’s pen slide across the paper and then you nod.

“It was a month before the Dawn. She, the mother, said she’d rather die at sea while trying to escape than see her little girl killed at the hands of that lunatic. I was reluctant at first - I had hardly any willpower to live left - but the surviving girls persuaded me, made me go with them. Using the narcotics available, I prepared really strong sleeping medicine. We teamed up with our friends, two smugglers who had remained loyal to us almost since the beginning of the Long Night. We were to meet them at the Altar of the Tidemother and try our luck sailing over the Cygillan Ocean to the Galdin Quay. Things didn’t go as planned.”

“Did they stop you?” Ignis raises his head to you in anticipation.

“The plan was to drug all of them so they fall asleep, but for some reason the medicine didn’t work as expected on many of them, the leader included. I suspect it was due to the Starscourge in their bodies. Some girls escaped without trouble, some got killed in the process. I managed to get out as well, although I really had to fight for my life and, well, this happened,” you point at your eye patch. “I was the last one to leave the building. On my way out, many of the torturers began turning into daemons and the place was crawling with them. I met with the group at the Altar and we finally left the cursed city behind. None of us thought we’d make it out alive, sailing was extremely dangerous due to the horrors lurking in the waters, but as we approached the shores of Lucis the sun suddenly came up. Honestly, we all thought we crossed the line to the afterlife. None of us was anticipating the end of the Long night. To say we were happy… is an understatement.”

“How many of you made it out?” Noctis asks and looks at Ignis’s notes.

“The two smugglers, five women and one child,” you count on your fingers.

“Are you willing to give us their names?” Ignis wonders and you shake your head vigorously.

“I’m willing to share the names of all the people that died in the hotel over the years, but I don’t feel comfortable sharing names of my girls that survived,” you explain apologetically.

“Understandable,” Ignis nods. “What about the names of your torturers? We need to take their possible survival into consideration.”

“Y-Yeah, I can do that,” you agree to help him and spend the next hour and a half not only naming all those men that wronged you, but also describing some of the workings of crime syndicates in Altissia. As Ignis and Noctis discuss the information with you, you can’t help but feel some kind of accomplishment.

“Thank you for your cooperation, (Y/N),” Noctis smiles brightly at you. It seems the meeting is finally over.

“Oh, hold on, Your Majesty,” Ignis stops him. “(Y/N), I need to ask one more thing. We have a bunch of good cases against the men if they’re still alive - human trafficking and slavery to name a few. However, given what you’ve come through, would you like us to act on your behalf as well?”

His question catches you unprepared. Your immediate, spontaneous reaction is a cynical chuckle.

“Six, I really hope he’s dead. If I ever run into him somewhere, it will be the death of me. I’ll end up dismembered or torn to shreds,” you snort. Ignis doesn’t even twitch. What you’re saying isn’t funny at all. You notice his serious expression and clear your throat. “Ehm, I don’t think I want to press charges. I’m done with that bastard. As far as I’m concerned, he’s paid his dues already.”

Noctis raises his eyebrows and looks at Ignis.

“Care to elaborate?” the Hand asks you. You swallow nervously and wonder if you should say it. You quickly glance at the camera in the upper corner of the room.

_They will all know… To hell with it, let’s just say it._

As you decide to spill the beans, you start searching for something in your small handbag. Noctis watches your hand closely.

“After the struggle at the hotel, when the narcotics finally kicked in and he fell unconscious,” you start hesitantly and place a small, pen-sized object on the table in front of you. Ignis nods at Noctis for his assistance and the King names the object for him.

“A scalpel?” he looks at you.

“I pulled his pants down and performed orchiectomy on him,” you say in the most relaxed voice you can muster at that moment.

“I-Ignis?” Noctis calls to his friend, fearing the worst.

“A surgical removal of testes,” Ignis says as if he was a living dictionary, and rubs the bridge of his nose.

“R-Really?” the King looks at you with eyes wide open. You nod a few times.

“I was thinking of penectomy at first,” you admit and take another biscuit. Noctis looks at Ignis who’s just taken in a breath to explain meaning of that word next.

“Ignis, you don’t have to,” Noct quickly warns him and your lips twitch as you try to kill your impending laughter.

“I opted for orchiectomy because I didn’t have enough time for penectomy. He wouldn’t really bleed out, but it would be much messier,” you start describing your thought process.

“I see,” Ignis says dryly and tries to keep his face straight. He writes something down.

“Wait, what are you writing?” Noctis panics, looks at the paper and reads: “… stole his… family jewels… what the--?”

“I didn’t steal his family jewels, what would I do with them?” you complain. “I placed them in his back pocket so he squishes them when he sits down. Although I doubt he’d even notice, they were quite miniscule,” you grin at them.

“…mi-nis-cu-le…,” Ignis repeats after you and an evil smile begins to form on his lips.

“Ignis, don’t write that down, damn!” Noctis scolds his friend. He questions whether you’re perhaps in cahoots with his royal advisor.

“(Y/N), let me ask you one thing,” Ignis pauses and plays with the pen cap. “Are you alright with people knowing such a spicy detail about your past?”

You think about it for a second and then just shrug carelessly.

“If it keeps men away from me for the rest of my life, then let the whole Eos know.”

It might be a bit of overkill, but you haven’t exactly returned to Lucis to find yourself a husband. As far as you’re concerned, you’d rather consider yourself done with men in general.

Noctis takes a deep breath and looks at you. He really seems to dwell on the payback you’ve just mentioned.

“Are you serious? Did you really cut his balls off?”

“I didn’t cut his balls off,” you shake your head and take the scalpel into your hand, raise it up and start to wave it around as you perform an invisible surgery, “all I did was making a small incision on his scrotum, so I could…”

“I get it, I get it…,” Noctis tries to stop you and gestures with his hands so you keep the sharp blade away.

“… and now he’s left with just a droopy pouch of skin, hah,” you add and Noctis gives you a stink eye.

“Come on, Your Majesty, are we feeling insecure?” Ignis jests and caps the fountain pen as he’s done taking notes. He leans his back against the chair and looks in your direction. “Technically speaking, (Y/N), the criminal in question could sue you for body mutilation, but given the evidence we’ve gathered against him, I doubt he would actually try,” he says pensively.

“Yeah, I know, but I really think he’d go after my life first before even considering taking a legal action for the loss of his dangly bits,” you snicker. “Anyway, if he’s alive, I really hope he stays in Altissia, because I’m never ever going back. Ever,” you say stubbornly.

“Really?” Noctis raises his eyebrows. “That’s a shame, it’s where my wedding will take place in a few months and Luna really wants you to be in the wedding party,” he grins at you. You blush like a little kid who got caught stealing sweets.

“Well, that’s a hard pass from me then,” you mumble and fidget on your chair. When he mentioned Lunafreya would like you to join the wedding party, it completely broke through your defences. You’ve developed the softest of spots for the fair princess.

“Let’s talk about that when the official invitation comes, alright?” Ignis smiles and stands up. “(Y/N), thank you for your time. The things you’ve shared are invaluable to us and the King really appreciates your sincerity in sharing some of more personal details,” he bows gratefully. “If we have any more questions, we’ll contact you for further discussions if it’s alright with you.”

“Yeah, sure,” you smile at them both. “I’m happy to help,” you reassure them and take the last biscuit while peeking at Ignis’s neat blocks of text on the sheet of paper. His handwriting is better than yours and you’re not even blind.

“I’ll be on my way then,” bowing down to King Noctis, you head to the double doors.

“By the way, (Y/N),” Noctis stops you before you reach the exit, “do you feel you’ve been abandoned by your friends?” His question hits you with unbearable gravity.

You freeze in your tracks and glance at him before looking away. What’s that question even about? Is he trying to pry your faint heart open for accusations and guilt tripping? The only person that deserves all the blame is you - no one else.

“I… really don’t know the answer to that question, sorry,” you shrug helplessly, bow down again and finally leave the meeting room.

*

In spite of Noct’s last inquiry that left you rather puzzled, you walk out of the King’s residence like a woman reborn. If you felt only a smidge lighter, you’d probably soar to the sky like a hot air balloon.

As you pass some of the Crownsguard men, they exchange weird looks and whisper something to each other.

_They know alright._

Calming yourself down as you munch on the last biscuit for comfort, you realise their thoughts about your past don’t concern you anymore. They are free to think whatever they please. However, for a person who is trying to re-establish your position as a medic close to the royal family, the mere fact they are aware of your past is a huge step forward.

Back in Insomnia, everyone in the Crownsguard and their mother knew about you thanks to your family line. Now, after talking to Noctis and Ignis, your life no longer reads like a book with a huge chunk of pages ripped out, as you’ve just stitched the lost chapters of your story back into the spine of the imaginary book of your life.

As if you’ve just turned the page and stood prepared to write a new chapter, you head down the stairs to the town centre.

_I believe I deserve some ice cream._

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, I've been rather anxious about posting this. At first, I wanted to apply the 'show don't tell' rule with MC's gloomy past, but it would only make the whole situation even longer and more gruesome, so I've settled on MC just telling them. I don't want this to be filled with too many nasty details (they will be some in the future), ultimately this story is supposed to be about MC healing and finding her way back into Gladio's arms... and BED! That's what we're all here for, right?
> 
> Also, I apologise for somewhat late (?) upload. I wanted to try pacing myself to upload a chapter per week (because from past experience my writing productivity sometimes dips a lot), but I'm just so excited to share this thing... I guess I'll try to upload twice a week.
> 
> I really hope I haven't put some of you off with MC taking her revenge in such brutal way. (cue anxiety)
> 
> Anyway, thank you for kudos and comments!


	9. The Laws of Sisterhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The laws of sisterhood, huh?”

Days go by and you can tell the information you’ve shared with the King is spreading like plague. One morning during your usual grocery shopping you hear a couple of EXINERIS workers talk about ‘the Leville in Altissia becoming a brothel during the Long night’ and worrying for some girl they used to know in the city on water.

You also notice that some members of the Crownsguard treat you differently. First of all, they all seem to know who you are which is a huge change compared to your first arrival at Lestallum. Second, a lot of them started to greet you whenever they see you. No matter how hard you try, you can’t come up with another believable explanation for their behaviour, so you accept it’s thanks to your audience with the King.

On top of that all, the first time you go to work after your chat with Noct and Ignis, Lunafreya hugs you without saying a word. None is needed, you have a rough idea where it’s coming from, but she still catches you unprepared and the whole experience feels a bit awkward, especially when she offers you some sylleblossom tea afterwards.

These changes in everyone’s perception of you are perplexing to say the least. What are you supposed to take from it? It’s not embarrassing, of course it isn’t, but you’re hesitant to call it empowering either. It’s just your new everyday reality. At least you try to find some kind of satisfaction in mere fact that people in Lestallum do acknowledge not everyone had it as ‘easy’ as them during the Long night.

In spite of all that, there’s one thing that makes you really happy. Ever since spilling all your Altissian beans to His Majesty, you have hardly any time to think about Gladiolus Amicitia. Of course, you still avoid him like you life depends on it and go to bed with your head full of bitter thoughts about him and his upcoming marriage, but your everyday life leaves you little space to beat yourself about things you can’t change.

It’s the final proof you needed to realise your decision to speak to Noctis was correct. For that, you’ve developed a habit of rewarding yourself with small things, and you’re not ashamed of it.

*

It is one of those days when there’s not much work in the hospital and Luna asks you to run errands for her. This time she needs you to pick up some batteries from EXINERIS for heart monitors and other medical technology. Picking them up was a quick and easy task; it’s getting back to the hospital that turns out to be a bit tricky.

As you walk on the street, you see Iris walking in the opposite direction. She notices you and immediately makes a bee line to you.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” she greets you, her pearly white smile wide as always. “Running errands for Luna?” she looks at the package you’re holding in your hands.

“Yeah, just fetching her some batteries,” you reply with a small smile. “What are you up to?” you ask her a polite question and the glint in her eyes tells you that might’ve been a mistake.

“Listen, do you have a moment to spare?” she leans closer as if she was trying to sell you an illegal substance or something. “I need your opinion.”

“Opinion?” you blink and take one glimpse at your watch. “I guess. What’s wrong?”

“Fufu, there is this new shop that opened yesterday and I’d like to buy something special, but I really need an opinion of someone who knows that stuff. Follow me!”

You gasp as she grabs your arm and leads you to the shop she’s mentioned. Soon enough, you stand in front of a brand new lingerie store.

_Oh yes, one of these. One of the shops humanity has suddenly realised they need, now that the Long Night is over_ , you think to yourself sarcastically and direct Iris a curious glance.

“Do you need a new pair of knickers?” you ask innocently. She smirks.

“Something to that effect, but it’s not that simple,” she mutters and looks around to make sure a certain brother of hers isn’t watching. “Let’s go.”

Both of you enter the store and she immediately starts browsing beautiful sets of bras and matching panties. You’re standing next to her, watching her helplessly.

“Say, Iris, the reason you’ve brought me here is…,” you wonder and take a hanger with a pink lacy negligee to pretend you’re one of the customers. The shop assistant has been giving you weird looks for the past five minutes.

Iris stops browsing and looks at you.

“Don’t get mad,” she warns you and hesitantly continues: “Given your previous… um… occupation, I thought you’d be knowledgeable about lingerie. Now that I say it aloud, I know it’s quite dumb…”

“Yes, it is dumb,” you mutter in annoyance.

“Yeah,” she nods, “but still, you can give me an advice as a friend, right?”

“I guess I can do that,” shrugging, you take a closer look at the thing she’s holding: a hot pink laced set of bra, knickers and a garter belt. The parts that are supposed to hold the breasts can hardly be called ‘cups’, it’s no more than a pair of thin fabric triangles with noodle straps. The knickers are in fact thongs in similar style. “S-So, what’s the occasion?” you ask slowly to keep the dialogue flowing as it doesn’t look like she’s trying to buy something comfortable for everyday wear.

“Oh, you know,” she blushes a little, and yes, you do know. Or at least you have a general idea.

“I see,” you nod and take a deep breath. You need to tell her something - it actually seems like she’s taking this atrocity into consideration! “Um, so you want something like that? Something… hot pink?”

You believe she would totally rock that colour, but you still want to give her some other options.

“It doesn’t need to be that colour,” she shares her thoughts aloud, “but I would really like something that feels nice.”

“Feels nice?” you raise your eyebrows.

“Here, feel this,” she shoves the skimpy piece in your hand. “What do you think?”

Completely baffled, you let your fingertips run over the lacy fabric. It’s enough to make you cringe.

“Shiva, just touching this gives me a rash,” you shudder. “This type of synthetic lace is horrible, please don’t go anywhere near that. In fact, it should have disappeared with the Astrals and the Crystal.”

“Thought so,” Iris says grumpily and picks another set, lemon yellow and even skimpier. “And this?”

“I-Iris,” your gawk at her and wonder how to get your point across without offending her. “Are you sure you want to be seen wearing something like that? Isn’t it too revealing?”

“That’s kind of the point,” she sneers devilishly. “Try touching it, it’s not that bad, is it?”

Again, you ran your hand over the fabric.

“Yeah, it’s a bit better, but I wouldn’t call it nice either,” you mumble stubbornly. “I-I really think you should go for something tamer!”

Iris looks at you like you’ve just betrayed her, thrown her under the bus and stomped all over her fragile maiden heart.

“You sound like Gladdy dearest,” she frowns at you.

“Come on, that’s nasty thing to say,” you scold her. “Your brother has your best interests in mind, I’m sure of it.”

“Yeah, but you see, I’m not a teenager anymore. Even I want to dress sexy every once in a while. Especially for certain occasions if you know what I mean,” she starts complaining.

You find it amusing that Gladiolus seems to be still guarding his sister from other guys to this degree even though she’s a grown up young woman who, given her Hunter background and reputation, can very well take care of herself. Then, your smile freezes on your face as you realise she’s most likely in a secret relationship. Where else would all the secrecy come from?

Whatever is the case, you feel it’s your obligation to protect her guy from this ugly lemony-yellow piece.

“Well yes, but I personally think it’s much sexier to be sophisticated about your nudity,” you state your opinion. “This thing,” you take the yellow set and shake it around so hard the strings and straps get all tangled up, “screams, ‘behold, my ladybits’! Whereas something like this…,” you grab a hanger with rather elegant set made of black satin, “whispers, ‘boy, you better work for it, and DON’T disappoint me’ you know?”

You look at her and for a second you feel like her older sister.

“Hm, good point,” Iris nods and touches the dark piece you’ve shown her. Her eyes are checking it studiously. “Yeah, it’s much better than that,” she points at the yellow piece in your hand and you take it as a cue to put it back where it belongs. Thank Ifrit’s Hellfire.

Next half an hour, Iris continues browsing through various styles of lingerie. Some of those fall into the same category as the first two pieces, some of them are more to your liking. Eventually, you start feeling impatient.

“Iris, I think I should return to Lady Luna soon,” you inform her nervously. Without a mobile phone you’re unable to inform the Oracle that you’ve been delayed.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ve let her know you’re with me,” she waves her hand dismissively. “Here, what about this?” Another set is shoved into your hands.

“Silk and lace, huh?” you perk up, intrigued by the piece. Shape and colour-wise it’s pretty vintage, it’s one of those high waist, low cut panties and a bra which looks more like a bralette with wider, comfortable straps, all that in soft cream colour, but the fabric feels amazing. “I don’t know about the design, but the material is great, I would go with something similar.”

“Yep, I like it too,” she grins and puts the set back. You take it out of the rack again, because it might be something for you. Since you’re here, you might as well buy something nice too to treat yourself.

After a few more minutes of browsing, Iris suddenly jumps up and fishes out another revealing set. The fabric covering the cups is almost see-through, the bra is basically a network of intricate straps, and the knickers…

_Ah, it’s one of those you have hard time guessing what style the makers went for._

The lower part of the back side is made of soft lace, but it doesn’t go all the way up to the waist. The rest of it is once again a net of strings with three decorative butterflies, effectively leaving the wearer bare-assed. The front of the panties is just as see-through as the bra.

You give her a ‘we’ve been through this, haven’t we’, look as she places the set in your hands - again.

“Touch it,” she orders you and you reluctantly obey.

“Y-Yeah, it’s nice, but… isn’t it too revealing?” you sigh.

“I know it is, but that’s not the point, ok? Just trust me,” she mutters and prods you with her shoulder. “What do you think of the fabric?”

“Ugh, it’s ok? But you’re the one who wants to wear it. You should be the one to decide if it ‘feels nice’ or not,” you frown because you’re really getting tired of the ‘touch this and that’ business.

“Not the point,” she shakes her head insistently, “I want to hear _your_ opinion about the texture. Close your eyes and try touching it again.”

“What?” you jerk, but when you see her intense glare, you just sigh and do as she says. Your digits run across the soft fabric and then tangle a bit in all those straps and strings. “I guess it’s… intriguing? Yeah, intriguing, the straps and all,” you give her your final judgement.

“Perfect,” she grins, takes it from you and heads to the changing room.

Confused, you follow her to try on your ‘boring vintage set’. It fits you like a glove and looks surprisingly good on your body, so you decide to buy it after all, even though you’re not sure what occasion you could wear it for.

_Hooray for spending my hard-earned money on stuff I don’t need_ , you think to yourself negatively as you wait for Iris to pay for her purchase. When she finally joins you, she looks so excited it forces a smile on your face.

“Thank you, (Y/N), you’ve saved my life!” she thanks you as you leave the store.

“Heh, I think by talking you out of the colourful ones I saved the poor fellow’s eyes first and foremost,” you grin at her.

“Heheh, yeah,” she smiles back somewhat vaguely. It piques your interest.

“So, now that I’ve saved your life… do you think you can tell me who the lucky gentleman is?” you ask her patiently. Her cheeks flush before your very eyes.

“Oh, you know,” she completely dismisses your question. You want to start complaining that no, you really don’t know, but before you can say anything, Iris stops, steps in front of you, and stares into your soul. “You know what it means, right? You shall not speak a word of this to Gladdy, understand? It never happened. What lingerie store? You don’t know me and no one saw us.”

You blink at her a few times.

“O-Of course, why would I tell him? I hardly ever meet him,” you pout, “and if I run into him by chance somewhere in the city, it’s not like I’ll approach him and be like ‘hey, your little sis bought very sexy lingerie and I saw her! You might want to look into that!’ I’m not a complete bitch, you know.”

“I hope so. Don’t break the Laws of Sisterhood,” Iris chants sinisterly and you wonder if you should pretend you don’t know her for a split second.

“So about the guy…,” you try asking again, but she just smiles, says she’s in a hurry and runs away.

_What was that about?_ You growl in annoyance and decide it’s about time you head back to the hospital.

Your thoughts run wild as you go down the stairs on the main street. You contemplate the piece Iris ended up buying and the way she was behaving when choosing the right one. What was all that touching and feeling about? On top of that, she asked you to close your eyes a few times.

You make a sudden stop in your tracks. An old man bumps into you from behind and you quickly apologise for making a stop in the middle of the stairway.

_No way. She can’t be… could it be him? Damn. Really?_ Your mind goes haywire and you feel your cheeks grow hot. You can’t be a hundred percent certain, but it all makes sense now. Pressing your lips tightly together in a funny grimace, you run up the stairs.

_Damn, I wanna tell someone. No, no. The laws of Sisterhood, right. I wonder if Lady Luna knows._

*

Prompto pulls a breath of fresh air into his lungs and looks around the Crownsguard training grounds beyond the city walls of Lestallum. Polishing a barrel of one of his revolvers, his eyes rest on Gladiolus with great concern. Gladio has asked Prompto to join him for a ‘friendly match for the sake of training’ and the blond agreed, only to sit there in the shade of an oak tree, second-guessing his decision.

Ever since they all heard you talk about your past, Gladio has been about ten times grumpier and infinitely more pensive and tense. Even now he sits nearby, reading a transcription of the conversation you had with Ignis and Noctis.

“So, are we doing the match or what?” Prompto asks impatiently. Gladio doesn’t even twitch.

“What, are you eager to get your ass kicked?” he grunts, but his eyes remain fixed on the pages.

“Don’t read it again,” Prompto scolds him. “Do you expect to find a hidden message in between the lines?” A warning growl is his only answer. “Look, I know it pisses you off, but there’s nothing you can do about it now. It happened in the past. You know the best what we’ve been doing those ten years. We had our hands full with the situation over here,” he gives it a shot. Maybe the Shield will acknowledge it this time.

No matter how many times Prompto or other of Gladiolus’s friends tell him he couldn’t do anything for you, it never drives the point home. Gladio is full of regret. Maybe if he tried harder to contact you; returned to Altissia to pick you up when your phone went silent… Maybe he would be able to salvage your sanity and prevent you from getting hurt over and over.

Maybes and what ifs.

“Come on, a friendly match should take your mind off those thoughts,” Prompto tries a more positive approach.

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Gladiolus mumbles finally and picks up Genji blade which is resting against the tree bark.

Prompto watches as Gladio grips his fist, crumpling the report in the process. Shit, he’s so frustrated. Backing out of the match would be the best thing to do at this point, but Prompto doesn’t want to turn his buddy down now. Gritting his teeth, he picks up his revolvers and gets up as well.

*

Having examined an old lady in the infirmary downstairs, you check the waiting room to find no more patients waiting for their appointment. After returning from your errands, you had your hands full all afternoon. Fortunately, none of the medical cases turned out to be serious, but you’re still feeling quite spent.

Locking the infirmary, you head upstairs to have a chat with Lunafreya. You plan to ask her for a break so you can head to the town centre and grab something to eat. Upon entering Luna’s room, you find her on the phone. She gestures to go in before you can back out.

“Yes… Mhm, I understand. I’ll send (Y/N) over straight away, Marshal, thank you for the heads up,” she finishes the call and looks at you with an expression full of worries.

“Did something happen?” you furrow your eyebrows.

“It was Marshal Leonis. Prompto got injured mid-training,” she sighs. “They say it’s not serious, but I promised to send you over to have a look at him because he refuses to come here.”

“Is he playing tough?” you grin and judging from Lady Lunafreya’s expression, you’ve hit the bulls-eye.

“Something to that effect,” she nods. “Anyway, I hope it’s not a problem for you?” she asks hesitantly.

“I don’t see why it should be,” you shake your head. Sure, who knows who you might run into, and the Crownsguard men giving you weird looks can be pretty annoying, but it’s not a big deal. “I’ll just take the basic stuff with me. If it needs suturing or something, I’ll drag him back here, deal?” you propose. If his injury calls for stitches, you could technically do it out there, but it will be much safer and cleaner to do it in the hospital.

“Of course,” Luna smiles and hands you your bag with medical supplies.

*

As you walk to the training grounds where Prompto should be waiting, you wonder if Gladiolus will be there as well. You’ve somehow managed to avoid him since the moment you entered the meeting room in the royal residence and told all the redundant people to scram. No matter how hard you try to avoid such thoughts, you keep pondering how he feels about some of the things you’ve shared about your past. Despite his looks, Gladio has always been very caring towards his friends including you. _Especially_ you.

“Um, (Y/N), am I right?” someone calls your name softly as you pick up your pace. Turning around, you see a tall, beautiful woman with golden locks of hair. You’ve seen her before.

“S-Silvana?” you furrow your eyebrows a little as you quickly recognise the face of the woman your friend Lucian almost slept with in the bar.

“Yeah, so you do remember!” she giggles and then grows completely red. “Of course you do, how could you not, am I right?”

“Yep, I don’t think I’ll ever forget that night,” you grin back. “How’s Lucian?”

“Yeah, he’s fine, fine,” she nods hesitantly. “Where are you going? Mind if I join you?”

You explain you’re headed to the training camp to examine one of the guys and to your surprise, she decides to tag along.

As you two walk towards your destination, you feel a bit uneasy. She’s taller than you and in your opinion she looks so much better than you. You don’t say much as she keeps talking about ‘good old times with Lucian’.

“I’ve heard about your story… and how you and Lucian met,” she says suddenly and grows a bit sad, dropping her eyes to the tips of her feet.

“Y-Yeah, well… Don’t worry about it, alright?” you say compassionately. She’s probably worried about Lucian sleeping with other women - you’re sure of it. “Those times were hard and everyone was doing their best to survive,” smiling helplessly, you shrug. “No matter what was going on, Lucian never stopped talking and dreaming about you, Silvana,” you insist. “Sometimes to the point of being really obnoxious, you know?”

“I know, sounds just like him,” she sighs and looks up. You’re approaching the training camp. “H-Hey,” she stops abruptly and you make a few more steps before you come to halt as well. You direct a questioning look on her. “Maybe don’t mention Lucian in front of them, would you? I have some personal bull going on.”

“What? Bull?” you blurt out and have no idea where she is coming from. She sighs again and raises her left hand so it’s directly in your view.

There, on her ring finger, sits a beautiful white gold band adorned with tiny diamonds. An engagement ring.

_Don’t tell me…_

Seeing your shocked expression, she smiles faintly.

“Please?” she mutters a nearly silent plea as she notices a man approaching. Her face brightens and you inevitably question, given the circumstances and all you know now, how much of that bright smile of hers is sincere and what part of it is just for the show.

_No. Way._

“Gladio! Did you get in trouble?” her voice resonates within your head so much your skull is about to shatter. Gladiolus greets her with a soft smile, hugs her, presses his coarse lips against her plump, pink ones, and then notices you.

“Hey,” he mumbles and gawks at you as if he’s just got caught red handed by you.

“Hi,” you reply and open your mouth to question all that you’ve just learned.

_No. It’s not your place to say anything. Pull it together._

You force yourself to keep your mouth shut, your lower jaw almost cramping.

“You girls know each other?” Gladio asks in a voice you could easily call suffocated, but you won’t because you’re desperate to refrain from giving yourself any false hopes.

“We’ve met in Lady Luna’s hospital, right?” Silvana looks at you and her stare is so intense a sense of vertigo washes over you.

“Yeah, we have,” you nod and force a smile.

“I see,” Gladiolus nods and kisses Silvana’s forehead. It feels like he’s doing it on purpose, to rub that salt deeper into your wounds.

You shake it off. It’s not what you’ve come for.

“Where’s Prom?” you harden yourself and walk past them.

“Uh, in the back,” Gladio waves his hand and follows you with Silvana.

As you walk across the training grounds towards Prompto sitting in a shade of a huge oak tree, it feels like a walk of shame.

“Oh look, it’s Lady Deadeye!” you hear a bunch of the Crownsguard men take notice of you. Waving at them dismissively, you stop in front of the blond guy.

You don’t take long to realise what’s wrong with him; there’s a makeshift bandage made of someone’s shirt on his left biceps. Judging by the bloodstain on the fabric, the cut is pretty large.

“Hello,” you gulp awkwardly as you kneel down in front of him.

“Hello,” he replies equally so. It seems he’s painfully aware of the situation you’ve found yourself in. You’ve arrived with Gladio’s fiancée after all.

“So what happened?” you take a deep breath and start removing the bandage.

“A friendly match turned a bit too heated,” Prompto replies and twitches as the hot Cleigne air touches the wound on his arm.

“With the Big guy?” you mumble darkly.

“With the Big guy,” Prompto nods and observes you carefully. You seem frustrated, but not in the way he’d expect you to be after meeting Silvana.

“Thought so,” growling, you give Gladiolus a stink eye. He’s sitting at a table with Silvana on his lap and they chat about something, occasionally kissing. Seeing his big hand cupping her butt cheek makes you sick to your stomach for some reason.

Prompto sighs and keeps watching you while you clean the cut. It’s obvious it was done by Gladio’s huge blade.

“It’s too big,” you mumble angrily.

“Heh, that’s what she said,” Prompto grins like an elementary schoolboy. You frown at him and shove a finger into the wound to punish him. Hissing with pain, he realises you’re not in mood for jokes.

“Mind your balls, Prom!” one of the guys standing nearby taunts him.

“Geez, you really _are_ savage,” Prompto pretends to ignore the guy while you continue cleaning the cut.

“Was he trying to cut off your arm or something?” you ask patiently.

“Nah, I don’t think so. It’s just…,” he looks at Gladio and Silvana. He’s noticed Gladiolus occasionally taking stealthy glimpses at the two of you. “…he’s been feeling slightly frustrated lately.”

“Oh,” you pout dismissively as it’s not really your problem. “Look, it needs stitches, ok? I’ll bandage it again and you’ll come with me to the hospital, deal?”

“Yeah, sure, why not,” he shrugs. In spite of all the things the other guys say about you, he’s confident about his balls staying where they belong.

“By the way, that Lady Deadeye thing - what is it supposed to mean?” you wonder as you get up.

“Eh… It might be my fault. Guys wanted to give you some kind of nick and I came up with that,” he admits reluctantly.

“Is it because of my eye patch?” you wonder and your self-consciousness about your injury kicks in.

“Uh, partially? When we travelled with Noct all those years ago, at one point we ran into a behemoth. He had a similar scar on his right eye. I’ll show you photos one day, ok?” he explains and gets slightly excited when he mentions his collection of photos.

“I’m not sure I like that,” you frown and grab your bag.

“Well, the others suggested calling you other names,” he gets up and grins at you, waiting for you to ask what it is.

“Like?” you decide to humour him.

“The Nutslayer.”

Turning to him, you gawk in his direction with your eyes wide open. You’ve expected many things, but this goes even beyond your imagination. Unable to hold it in, you burst out into mad laughter, attracting attention of every person currently present at the training grounds.

*

Later, after you’re done suturing Prompto’s wound, you part with Lunafreya and head on a small walk to sort out your thoughts. Shiva knows you need it. Your steps carry you to the famous spot in Lestallum, the look-out over the Taelpar Crag. Resting your hands against the railing, you look into the depth below.

_Isn’t Eos such a small place…_

Today feels like it’s been going for a hundred hours at least. You’ve experienced the whole lingerie shopping with Iris and then discovered the long-lost sweetheart of your friend is actually a current fiancée of the guy you used to be in love with.

Silvana is the girl you’ve secretly resented as the one Gladiolus Amicitia currently beds every night - most likely. Lo and behold, here’s your proof that his fiancée is no shrew, as you believe Silvana is a genuinely nice person. Still, being engaged and making a scene like that with a different guy…

Your thoughts return to her avalanche of apologies back in the bar. She was blushing so hard and her clothes were a mess - but you didn’t mind and just smiled at her, happy for Lucian to get reunited with his soul mate.

But is she really Lucian’s soul mate if she can - from what you’ve seen today - cheat like that on both your friend and her own fiancé?

It would be so easy to ruin it for everyone!

_Damn, stop it. People cheat all the time. It’s not my business. Not my business…_

You heave painfully as you steer your mind back to today’s shopping with Iris and the promise you’ve more or less given her.

“The laws of sisterhood, huh?” you mutter quietly and let out an exhausted breath as the sun sets over Taelpar Crag.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there're some revelations going on, heh. Did any of you, dear readers, suspected Silvana to be THE ONE? My sister did, damn her :D This chapter was so much fun to write, especially the part with Iris :D Speaking of Iris, could it be...?!?!?!
> 
> Honestly, I'm having so much fun with this story. I write it as I go and although I have main plotpoints planned, it keeps growing and I'm a bit uneasy, yet weirdly excited about it. Brace yourselves, It's definitely going to be a longfic.


	10. The Painter's Link

„So, um… yeah, about my engagement,“ the beautiful blond haired creature sitting at the bar sighs and looks at you as if she expects some kind of scolding, and you wished so hard you could just let go of your restraints and scream at her as hard as you can. Alas, she’s a paying customer and you are a bartender. All you can do in this scenario is wipe the glasses you’ve just washed in the sink dry, listen to her nonsense and nod empathically, all that with a dumb smile on your face because it’s company policy.

Silvana, you friend’s ex and your ex’s fiancée, has decided to come to the bar this late at night and talk to you about her dilemma, because she expects your support as a fellow member of the sisterhood and a friend of both men. You wish you could tell her to piss off, since you have very little understanding for cheaters and even less for someone who cheats on both your dear friend and… that other guy.

At this point, you’re not even sure what Gladiolus Amicitia means to you. Your mind still focuses on the way his hand cupped her butt cheek - the butt cheek used to be yours! All and all, they looked so perfect together. Her tall, slender figure complements his height perfectly. Compared to her, you look like a scrubby goblin. It’s not that you’re too short; standing next to Gladio everyone is.

“I guess it depends on who you are in love with?” you shrug, trying to be at least a bit helpful.

“Heh, I wish I knew,” she sighs and hands you an empty wine glass, asking for a refill.

Well, you can’t say you don’t understand her feelings to some degree. She hasn’t seen Lucian in ages, but they never really broke up, just got separated by circumstances for a very long time. However, life goes on, doesn’t it? As old feelings sit on the back shelf and collect dust, new feelings develop to new people. It’s a natural process. Now, she’s in this messy situation and she’s realised that even the old feelings are as good as new and all it took was to dust them off.

“You know both of them, right? Lucian and Gladio. From what I understand, you were a part of his friend group before Noct disappeared,” she turns the dialogue to you.

“Well, I knew _of_ them. That’s about it,” you lie to her and push the refilled glass towards her on the counter.

“Hm… Wanna know how we got together?” she smiles and thanks for the drink.

_No, I don’t._

“Yeah, sure, why not,” you encourage her to continue and hope you can ignore most of it while still looking fairly interested in her story.

“Well,” she smiles brightly, “we’ve met during hunts roughly six years ago. We ended up working together a lot, becoming a good team. I fell for him instantly, but he was somewhat emotionally distant. Iris explained he couldn’t get over some girl he’d lost during - or was it after? - the events in Altissia. I guess it took him a long time to realise she’s really gone.”

“I see,” you utter to show her you’re listening, even though you’d rather hide in a huge freezer you had in the back of the bar’s kitchen.

“Anyway, I think he was getting frustrated about the whole situation because during one assignment, when we got stuck in a labyrinth of caves, we just jumped at each other and fucked like rabbits,” she grins. Her words make you recoil visibly. Unfortunately, she notices. “Uh, sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so vulgar,” she quickly apologises, “but there’s no other way to put it, you know? It was that crazy. We only stopped to clean waves of daemons that would occasionally spawn - butt naked of course, heheh.” Silvana rubs her cheeks as they flush with heat.

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting it,” you smile apologetically. “Good for you though!”

“Heheh, yeah. It’s been two years and we’ve been together ever since. I’m so in love with him! He’s proposed half a year ago and we’ve made a promise to get married as soon as the Long night ends. I don’t think either of us expected it to be so soon,” she giggles and drinks her wine.

You’re standing here, still wiping the wet glasses, and your mind is completely blank. You could really go without hearing all that, that’s for sure. Feeling like you should say something, you open your mouth.

“What about Lucian?” No matter how hard you try, the simple question comes out sounding so extremely reproachful!

“L-Lucian,” she sighs and her shoulders drop a bit. “I don’t even have words to describe how I feel about him. See,” she looks at you, “we’ve been always together back in Galahd. It started as a puppy love, then we got serious, we were young but ready to get married, even though we had to take refuge in Insomnia…” As her words trail off, her stare gets more intense, as if she’s trying to find the solution to her dilemma somewhere in your left eye. As if it was a pond and she was trying to catch an extremely rare fish. “The separation happened and now he’s back and I… I thought my feelings for him were long dead and buried - but they are not. What should I do? There are two men I love so much and I don’t know which one to pick!”

You observe her face. One thing is for certain - she’s not bluffing. Silvana really is at the end of her wits. You take a deep breath, sorting your thoughts quickly. It would be so easy to just tell her to go after Lucian, but you need to consider Gladiolus and his feelings as well.

If her words are to be trusted, Gladiolus has already moved on from your mutual relationship. He’s most likely resolved his past and is now looking forward to spending his life with this girl. Thinking about it, you really are a killjoy - reappearing like some kind of ghost with all of your emotional luggage and gloomy past. Of course he’s cranky about your sudden appearance in Lestallum, who wouldn’t be?

It would be so easy to tell Silvana to dump Gladiolus and run away with her true love Lucian, but you just cannot bring yourself to do it. You used to love him so much. Seeing him heartbroken over a breakup with Silvana would ruin you even more if you felt like the one who’s caused it. There’s no way you could be able to step up and take Silvana’s place in such case. Partly because of the feeling of guilt, partly because you feel like you’re done with men altogether.

“I really can’t tell you which one to pick,” you sigh and quickly glance at the beautiful engagement ring on her finger. “Both of them are absolutely great men, Silvana - but you already know that. But please, don’t get Lucian’s hopes up if you intend to stay with Gladiolus, ok? That guy adores you so much, you were the main topic whenever he felt like talking about his past. I’m sure he’ll understand if you tell him you’ve moved on… just… do it soon, ok?” you plead to her. Quite frankly, you are shocked that it was indeed your voice that said all that, but at least you have no regrets.

“I suppose you’re right,” she nods and finishes her wine.

“When is the wedding anyway?” you ask softly as you watch her gloomy face.

“In three weeks,” she replies and you feel the tension in your stomach grow worse.

_Three weeks…_

“Then I guess you should act quickly,” you smile supportively.

 _Is this what they mean when they say you should be the bigger person?_ You wonder silently and hope that somewhere amidst all this mess there’s sense of inner peace waiting for you.

*

Despite the conversation with Gladiolus’s fiancée, you sleep surprisingly well that night. You do have second thoughts about what you’ve told her, but at the same time you’re generally at peace.

It’s your day off and you decide to sleep in a bit. Realising there’s nothing to eat, you need to reorganise your morning routine - it’s grocery shopping first and breakfast later. It’s almost eleven o’clock when you finally smear that mashed avocado over your white bread toast, throw some tomato slices on your plate to add some colour to the dish and lounge on your bed with a cup of Ebony and morning newspapers.

Your eyes glide across the light gray pages while you’re chewing your breakfast. According to one of the articles, The Mother of Pearl restaurant in Galdin Quay is preparing a huge party to celebrate its grand reopening.

“… the King Noctis Lucis Caellum is expected to attend along with his fiancée, Lady Lunafreya Nox Fleuret… huh,” you mumble and wonder what it means for you. You’ll be most likely asked to look after the patients when Lady Luna is gone. Making a mental note to ask Lunafreya about it tomorrow, you finish your toast and down it with a sip of coffee.

As you get up to wash the dirty plate, you hear a knock on your door. You freeze for a second and look at the door suspiciously. It’s not that time when landlord pays everyone a visit to collect rent and even if it was, you’re still in the middle of your rent free period. Then again, you guess the landlord might have finally heard your request for a new toilet. You approach the door and open.

“Yes?” you spurt out before you even take a closer look at the visitor.

“’Sup,” a tall, dark haired guy grins at you, his hand resting on the doorframe nonchalantly. Gladiolus Amicitia’s paying you a visit.

“W-What do you want?” you gasp and gawk at him like you’ve just seen a ghost, or one of those annoying doorstep sellers. Your initial urge is to slam the door in his face, because it’s too much of a surprise.

“Come on, no need to panic, I come in peace,” he chuckles at your startled reaction. You’re standing in front of him in sweatpants and a very loose t-shirt, your hair are an unkempt mess. He can tell you’ve been planning to play a layabout all day.

“D-Did something happen? Should I run to the hospital?” you start to panic for real, run into your tiny room and rummage through clothes. Gladio watches you with silent amusement.

“Settle down, nothing is happening,” he hums soothingly. You shoot him an annoyed look, then quickly look away as you realise you don’t have your eye patch on. It’s not like it matters, he’s seen your scar before, but you’re very self-conscious about it.

“Then why are you here?” you ask grumpily and notice a bucket of white paint standing on the floor. Next to it, a box full of painting equipment. “What is it?” you frown and come closer to him.

“You’ve asked for paint, haven’t you?” he replies with a question.

“Yeah, I have,” you nod, “but I’ve asked for paint only. What’s that other stuff?” you ask and point at the equipment.

“Come on, how else would you paint your--,” he briefly stops, leans over the doorframe inside and looks around. “Uh, you really live here?” he mumbles darkly. He didn’t expect much of luxury, but this is below terrible.

“So?” you shrug defiantly. “It’s good enough for me. I don’t plan to stay in Lestallum anyway,” you mumble something which is partially true. “Well, thanks for all that stuff,” you walk to him, get down and pull the box over the doorsill. It’s quite heavy. “Say hi to Prompto. A-And Silvana. Bye,” you sputter out quickly and start closing the door.

“Hey,” he stops you by shoving his foot between the door and the frame. “Don’t be like that. I have a day off. I’ve come to help you,” he says patiently through the crack.

“Help me?” you scowl at him. “You see how small my place is! I can paint it myself in a few hours!” you protest and push at the door a bit harder, but they won’t even budge. He’s holding them and your strength is practically non-existent compared to his.

“Yes, I know you can,” he nods, “but what about the furniture? Are you moving it all by yourself too?”

“T-The furniture, hm…,” you repeat and look at the huge old wardrobe in the corner of your studio. Moving the cupboards on the walls could use some physical strength too. “Hm… It’s not like I wanted to paint the place today,” you pout at him. Gladiolus stares at you silently for a few seconds. He can’t decide if your behaviour is annoying or adorable.

“Come on, we’re both free today, I’m already here with all that shit - we might as well do it,” he grins and pushes slightly against the door you’re still holding. To his delight there’s no more resistance.

“How do you know I’m free today?” you glare daggers at him.

“It’s kinda obvious, you’re still here, wearing that?” he shrugs and scans your outfit with his eyes. You don’t like his look one bit; it feels so criticising!

“Well, would you like me to wear a negligee or something,” growling at him, you reconsider pushing him out of your apartment.

“Yeah,” he grins, “yeah, I’d like that.” He watches heat rising in your cheeks. It’s exactly what he wanted to achieve by saying something like that.

“I’ll tell Silvana on you!” you sputter at him like a kid yelling at its bully.

“Of course you will,” he sighs and looks at you with more serious eyes. “So, will you let me in?”

You let out a dismissive snort and let him in reluctantly. Standing in the middle of the tiny apartment, he looks around.

“How much you pay for this?” he asks quietly, trying to mask the pity in his voice as he knows it would anger you.

“It’s rent free for another few weeks,” you reply and finally get down to washing your dirty dish. Glancing at him secretly, you realise how tall he really is. The crammed proportions of your apartment make his height and wide shoulders pop even more.

“Good,” he mutters eerily. You wonder if he’d go to see your landlord and wrestle him to get you a better deal if you had to pay your rent. The idea entertains you and you chuckle quietly. “Is there something funny?” noticing your reaction, he asks with a faint smile.

“Nope,” you shake your head and walk to your bed to put away your blanket and pillow. “So, Silvana doesn’t care you’re spending your day off with your ex?” you wonder aloud, trying to suppress the bitterness in your voice.

“You’ve told her I’m your ex?” he fixes his eyes on you.

“No, why would I?” you shake your head. “It’s been so long ago and it’s buried under so much rot and ugly, it hardly even matters anymore.” You take off both layers of bed sheets, uncovering disgusting stains on the mattress. Your gaze rests on him for a brief moment.

Gladiolus seems a bit distraught. Who knows if it’s because of the nasty mattress or if the real culprits are your words. Is it really how you feel about him? Of course you do, why wouldn’t you? He’s basically abandoned you…

“What I’m surprised about is,” you brusquely yank his attention away from his sense of guilt, “the fact you obviously haven’t told her either, and yet for some reason you’re here, offering your help with painting my apartment. Mind you, without me giving you a single hint I’d like to paint it today or that I’d even want you to help me with it.”

“Damn, I’ve been called out,” he grins after a second of holding his stare on you.

“I just don’t want to deal with your fiancée in case she’s the jealous kind,” shrugging, you move to what you like to call a kitchen unit, grab a small wooden stool, climb on top of it and start removing food from one of the cupboards.

“That’s understandable,” he sighs. “Don’t worry, she’s not. She went to Galdin Quay with Iris today. She’s discussing wedding menu with Ms. Coctura Arlund,” he explains and carefully observes you. Your hands shiver for a moment, but it might be his imagination.

 _Is she marrying him or Iris? Or does he have no say in this wedding_? You question yourself because you’d never ask him about this.

“You’re getting married in Galdin, nice,” you force a smile and then let out a surprised ‘oh’, as you find an unexpected cup of Cup Noodles in the cupboard. You’re absolutely sure those aren’t yours, they must belong to the previous tenant.

“What?” Gladio notices your intense stare into the cupboard and comes closer, looking in the same direction. Unlike you, he doesn’t need a stool to see inside. “Holy shit, Cup Noodles!” he lights up and reaches inside, nearly knocking you off the stool. “It’s a limited edition! They’ve stopped making those five years ago!”

“F-Five years?!” you squeak, obviously alarmed at the information and the fact that Cup Noodles were somehow still a thing during the Long night. “Give it to me,” you snatch it from his hand and read the back of the packaging. “It’s two years past due date! We need to get rid of it!”

“Two years is nothing,” he dismisses your decision and takes it back. “I’m getting quite hungry.”

“You can’t eat that, you could get food poisoning!” you scold him and once again steal it from his big hand.

“Come on, I ate worse,” he mumbles and reaches for the cup again. “You’re not my mother.”

“No!” you yell and try to push his hand away. He doesn’t relent and starts grabbing at the cup with both of his hands. As you push each other, you suddenly loose balance and start falling off the stool you’re standing on. At that moment you see yourself on the floor with your skull fractured.

“Oops,” his arm quickly twists around your waist, stopping your fall and steadying you by pressing you to his chest. Your breath gets completely sucked out of your lungs. His eyes are locked with yours and he seems hesitant. You know you have to do something fast, otherwise he’ll act on his instincts. It doesn’t help that kissing girls is one of them.

“T-Thanks,” you mutter quietly, gently patting his shoulder to make him let go of you.

“Welcome,” he grins and releases his hold on you, albeit a little bit reluctantly. “Can I get the cup as a reward for saving you?” he asks cheekily.

“Be my guest,” you growl, “but don’t expect me to help you when that wave of explosive diarrhea hits you like the Tidemother’s punishment.” Slowly getting off the wooden stool, you realise your legs are a bit shaky.

“Don’t worry about me,” he smiles thankfully and picks up the Cup noodles off the floor. “I’ll borrow your kettle, can I?”

You just wave your hand. He’s been acting so entitled about everything, marching in here with the damn painting equipment and all, there’s no reason to think he’d actually listen if you forbid him to use your kitchen equipment.

You continue putting away things you have lying around in preparation for the painting and watch him begrudgingly as he pours water into the kettle and puts it on the stove.

“Will you look after it for me?” he asks optimistically, “I need to go to the toilet.”

You glare at him in disbelief. Is this guy even serious? You low-key start to feel sorry for Silvana.

“Are you planning to be gone for a long time?” you wonder and approach the stove.

“Uh, I don’t think so? I’m using your toilet,” he arches his eyebrows, uncertain why you are even asking that.

“No you’re not,” you shake your head. You’d have to jump into Taelpar Crag if you let him see that atrocity of a toilet bowl.

“Come on, don’t be like that. It’s a bodily function. I can’t hold it much longer. You’re a doctor, right? Who else should understand than you?” he complains and pokes your arm.

“I-I’d really prefer if you went elsewhere, the toilet is terrible!” you snap at him and feel the heat start rising up your cheeks again.

“Geez, it can’t be that bad,” he laughs at you.

“It actually might be cursed - or possessed! It has such a threatening aura,” you try to persuade him, but it’s to no avail.

“You’re full of shit, (Y/N),” he sighs and heads to your bathroom.

“Just you wait till you eat the expired noodles, we’ll see who’s really full of shit!” you hiss at his back and he breaks into a roaring laughter before he disappears in the bathroom.

You restart cleaning your apartment while you’re trying to ignore sounds coming from the bathroom. There’s a lot of grunting and cursing, and at the end of it all, Gladiolus Amicitia emerges from the lavatory with a slightly embarrassed expression.

“I think I’ve broken your toilet,” he admits in defeat.

“See?” you cross your arms on your chest, stare at him sternly for a while and then remove a large metal spanner from another of the cupboards and move past Gladiolus to the bathroom with a grimace that screams ‘step aside kiddo!’. For some reason it gives him a brief flashback of Mr Cid Sophiar, the mechanic of the royal house. Your grumpy energy is the same.

Gladio watches the bathroom door that closed behind you as he hears loud banging. He imagines you attacking the pipes violently for no other reason than to relieve your stress, but he wants to believe there’s actually a method in the madness. When you return, your forehead is slightly sweaty, but you seem somewhat satisfied.

“There, now it should be ok for a while,” you mutter to yourself and put the spanner back to its rightful place.

“I could have a look at it, if you ask nicely,” Gladio offers his services with a smirk.

“I’ll ask Prompto _nicely_ ,” you pout defiantly, “he offered his help with anything when I was stitching his arm together.”

“Prompto is a tech-guy, not a handyman,” he objects and watches you wash your hands in the kitchen sink.

“Well neither are you, right?” you look at him scornfully.

“I can be quite handy,” he says smugly, “especially for good friends.”

You sigh as you’re getting a bit tired of his antics.

“We’re not good friends,” you scold him to get him off his high horse. “Come on, let’s get down to painting, Mr. Handyman.”

Gladio nods and takes off a badly worn hair elastic which is keeping his long strands of hair from falling in his face. As soon as he stands in front of you with his hair undone, your ability to produce a coherent sentence packs its suitcase and runs away somewhere.

You gaze at him as he puts the hair elastic between his teeth to free his hands and starts combing his long hair with his fingers so he can tie them into a full ponytail instead of a half-one. At first, he’s quite oblivious to your bewitched state, but you’re quickly discovered when he accidently glimpses at you. His thick eyebrows arch in a mix of amusement and surprise. Getting some sort of wicked idea, he releases his hair, letting it fall freely to his shoulders and in his face, and slowly approaches you.

“Will you do me the honour?” he hums as he towers over you. The dark chocolate strands of hair frame his chiselled jaw line so nicely. Seeing him like this, you unintentionally pull all your defences down.

You gawk at him, your mouth agape while he smiles at you warmly. Raising his hand to your chin, he gently pushes it up with his index finger, effectively closing your mouth.

“Please?” he takes your left hand and places the elastic band in the palm. “I know you used to like playing with my hair,” he mentions softly. You feel a painful sting somewhere deep in your chest. Mentioning your past relationship feels like a dirty move in the current situation. It should be forbidden.

 _That hurt_ … You think silently, wondering if you could be selfish for a moment and just go with it. _It wouldn’t be cheating, right?_

“Sit down,” you growl through clenched teeth and nod towards the stool. He obliges with a victorious grin while you quickly search for your hair brush.

You take a deep breath as you stand behind him and hesitatingly run your fingers through his hair. As your digits run through the single strands and your fingertips brush tenderly against his scalp, he lets out a soft purr. It makes you pull back for a second as you haven’t expected him to enjoy himself so much, but you quickly restart brushing his hair with your fingers as he grunts unhappily as soon as he notices the loss of contact.

“Maybe wash your hair first next time you ask a girl to brush it for you,” you complain quietly. It’s not like his hair are greasy or anything, but they’re not exactly clean either. Gladiolus chuckles at your reprimand.

“Yes, mommy,” he taunts impishly and you feel a shiver run down your spine.

“Stop it,” you scold him and slap his right shoulder.

Taking the hair brush in your hand and leaving the elastic band on your wrist, you start brushing his hair thoroughly. You’re filled with warmth when you discovery a bunch of solitary silver hairs amidst the sea of dark brown. Remembering his late father, Sir Clarus Amicitia, you try to imagine aged up Gladiolus with his hair laced with silver. It’s awkward to admit that your mouth actually waters a bit.

As you carefully pull his hair into a single ponytail on the back of his head, a sudden sadness overcomes you. The urge to hug him and nuzzle your face to the back of his neck is so strong it’s painful, but there’s nothing you can do to satiate it. He’s spoken for, a forbidden fruit, and you’re just his ex, a whisper from the past.

“Is everything alright?” he asks patiently as he’s noticed your small hands stopped moving.

“Y-Yeah,” you nod quickly. “I’m just wondering what would Silvana say about this.”

“Hm? Nothing, I think. She’s not into playing with my hair like you used to be,” he shrugs.

Here it goes again, another mention of your past. Feeling the need to punish him, you yank his ponytail a little.

“H-hey, that felt good. Do it again,” he laughs quietly. He’s doing his best to lighten up the mood, but it’s not working. Not for you at least. Instead of repeating the punishment, you just rest your hands on his shoulders.

“Done,” you mutter and take a deep breath. “H-Hey, thanks for not talking about my past,” you hear your voice say those words and you’re unsure where it came from. Only then you realise that all along you’ve been worried he came here to bury you in questions and inquiries about your past.

Gladiolus is silent for what feels like eternity.

“Don’t mention it,” he says eventually and gets up. “Let’s get down to business, ok?”

You wholeheartedly agree with his proposal and you finally start working on painting your apartment. It goes fairly well even though you have a feeling it’s mostly Gladiolus who is doing all the work.

To your surprise all day is really pleasant. You laugh at his jokes, listen to some of his stories from the World of Ruin, and when the whole place is freshly painted, you make him eat the food you planned to have for dinner. To your dismay, he still claims the expired Cup Noodles for himself.

As he’s leaving, you thank him for helping you, and he tenderly boops your nose, making you finally aware of a paint smudge you’ve had sitting there for a few hours.

When he’s finally gone around seven in the evening and you collapse on your freshly made bed, you wish you owned a time machine to go back to the moment you’ve told Silvana to decide on her own. You doubt your advice to her would still be the same if she asked you now.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've planned to release this chapter on Friday but I was so tired I just ended up 'editing' it in the morning. I hope I managed to catch all the mistyped words, my attention is all over the place :/
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed it, we've finally got some bonding going on. Can I call it bonding? They were friendly enough, but there are obvious limitations and reservations in what they can do. I felt so bad for MC, restraining herself even though her past 'her' would probably cuddle Gladio to death :(
> 
> Thank you for comments! It's so amazing to see people are actually reading and sticking to this story and waiting for updates. I haven't experienced this in a long time :D
> 
> Bonus: Actual footage of MC trying to keep her Customer-friendly-smile™ while Silvana tells MC about her sex life with Gladdy:


	11. The Evening Shift

In spite of your beliefs that Gladio’s visit and help with painting won’t affect you in any way, the opposite is true. You realise you spend a lot more time in your apartment, thinking about that day. A lot more time than you should, that is. It’s making your head spin whenever you realise how much it felt like you’re a couple painting together the place you want to move in together for the first time.

Whenever that crosses your mind, you get angry at yourself for allowing yourself thinking such thoughts. To mitigate the sweet feeling, you quickly remember your discussion with Silvana, especially the part about her and Gladio fucking like rabbits. It always helps to set your mind straight.

A week after Gladio’s visit, there are still no news about Silvana’s decision. You know you’d learn about it very quickly, either by Iris breaking the news of Gladio’s break up or by Lucian storming into the bar, drinking himself to death and wailing loudly to the owner’s dismay. As much as you try to stay out of it, you can’t deny that your impatience grows.

All you can do is pray Silvana doesn’t decide to go out with both of them, marrying Gladiolus while keeping Lucian on the side. At that point, you’d have to break the Laws of Sisterhood, simply because you won’t stand for that bullshit, no matter how little it concerns you personally.

One afternoon after your shift, you’re on your way to say bye to Lunafreya before going home. You find her sitting in her armchair reading something.

“Lady Luna, I guess I’m done for today,” you inform her when you peek inside her room. Then you notice a plate full of pastries in front of her. “Mr Scientia paid you a visit?” you ask with a grin.

“Yes, he came and brought me this,” she shows you familiar sheets of paper. You come closer and notice it’s his notes from your audience. You lose a bit of colour when you remember what’s written in them.

“Hah, so he let you read that?” you gulp nervously, wondering how she must feel about some of your comments about testicle sizes and such. Lunafreya nods.

“Actually, it was me who asked him to take notes. I find his insight very helpful,” she explains, making you feel even worse.

“I wish I knew, I’d have chosen my words more carefully,” you apologise and sigh. “I thought it was weird for him to take notes because, well… how would he read them, right?”

“Right,” she grins at you mischievously, “but look at this, his handwriting is really amazing. He’s such a perfectionist. I wish my fair King could write like that as well.”

You chuckle at her comment about Noct’s letters and keep eyeing the pastries not so discreetly.

“Go on, knock yourself out,” she offers you some and you quickly dig in. “By the way, (Y/N), I’d like to come with Iris to the bar tonight, would you please reserve seats for us? Some at the bar would be good so we can chat with you.”

“Sure, I will,” you nod with your mouth full - you’ve found out you don’t need to be always so uptight in Lunafreya’s presence, “but it’s mid-week, there shouldn’t be many people to begin with.”

You’re pleasantly surprised at her plan to go to the bar. Frankly, you can’t really imagine her drinking anything but a cup of tea or a glass of champagne, and you can’t imagine her sitting at the bar drinking either of those things.

“Is there any specific reason why you’re going out?” you wonder, hoping you’re not too nosy.

“Oh, you know. Girls just wanna have fun,” she smiles mysteriously and you feel so uncomfortable for a second you have to grab another of the pastries and shove it into your mouth to replace the discomfort with sweet goodness.

*

“So yeah, after I was done dealing with that bloke, I met her in one of those back alleys behind the market and we had an amazing quickie, like, I came all over her butt…”

Standing behind the bar as if it’s some kind of a fort, you awkwardly smile at Lucian. There’s no doubt he and Silvana are a fit made in heaven, with their gratuitous over-sharing about their sexual experiences. You’re trying not to remember she’s cheating on her future hubby, and concentrate on the matter at hand:

How to discreetly shoo Lucian away before Iris and Lady Lunafreya appear?

“I’m glad it’s working for you guys,” you smile at him and take a sip of your beer. Beer is usually what you drink during your shifts because it’s not alcoholic enough to make you tipsy, yet it’s enough to make things drunk patrons tend to say a little more tolerable.

Lucian’s face darkens and he lets out a tortured heave.

“Actually, it’s not really working. I think she’s involved with someone, she keeps postponing our departure from Lestallum,” he complains. “I mean, I can’t blame her, I came back after a looong time, but I wish she’d really make up her mind.”

“I see,” your lips flutter as sudden disappointment hits you.

_I thought I told her to make up her mind quickly…_

“Do you have any idea who could the person she’s involved with be?” you ask curiously, watching him with empathy in your eyes. You do feel really bad for your friend. It makes your blood boil whenever Silvana’s pretty face pops up in your mind.

“I don’t know, but I think it’s quite serious,” he mumbles and then glares at you. “Do YOU know anything?”

“Nope,” you shake your head quickly. Your left eye widens as you see Iris and Lunafreya enter the half-empty bar. To make things even worse, Gladiolus is with them.

 _Shit_.

“You see a ghost or something?” Lucian furrows his eyebrows and looks in the direction you’re staring in. “Ramuh’s crinkly balls, is it Lady Lunafreya?!” he gasps and lights up.

“Y-Yes, it is, but please, mind your language, ok?” you hiss at him in low voice, “she’s my boss!”

You doubt he even heard your warning as he jumps off his stool and runs towards Lunafreya like some crazy fanboy. Of course, Gladio is quick to react and stands in his way.

“Hey, back off,” he growls at Lucian.

“What’s your problem, huh?” Lucian frowns and you see veins pop up on his forehead.

“You’re my problem if you charge Lady Luna like that,” the Shield clenches his fists.

“I just wanted to say hi,” your friend grunts aggressively.

“Hi,” Luna smiles behind Gladio’s wide shoulders.

“G-Gladdy, it’s ok,” Iris gently grabs Gladio’s arm and tries to pull him back, but to no avail.

 _Not good_ , you panic. Those two having a fistfight is the last thing you need.

“Gentlemen, there’s no need to argue,” Lunafreya steps in and, pushing gently at their chests, she prevents them from getting in each other’s faces.

“Lucian! Come back, be a good boy!” you call him over. The man twitches, turns back into his tamer self, and grinning at Luna, he returns to the bar.

“What a jerk,” he frowns and finishes his drink while ignoring Gladio’s annoyed glare.

“Don’t be like that, it’s his job. He’s the Shield of the King,” you wink at Lucian and he perks up.

“He’s _what_?” he turns on his bar stool and stares at Gladio. Then he notices the tiny frame of the brunette girl. “Aren’t they Amicitia sibs?” he asks you impatiently.

“Well, yes,” you nod nervously.

“Ifrit’s crooked cock!” he yells, his mighty roar echoing through the premises.

“L-Lucian!” gasping in shock, you lean over bar and grab his wrist to stop him. He’s always been a bit wild when it came to people he considered ‘badass’. At this point you wouldn’t put it past him to jump at Gladiolus and give him a manly kiss, whatever that means.

“Having trouble?” Gladio asks you when he approaches the bar and glances at Lucian suspiciously.

“N-No, no. He’s just excited to see you,” you explain quickly, feeling like you’re struggling with an overly excited pooch.

“See me?” Gladio almost hiccups and looks at Lucian uncomfortably.

“You’re that Amicitia bloke, right?” Lucian flashes his teeth at Gladio, while Iris and Lunafreya come to the bar as well.

“I guess?” Gladio frowns, wondering where this is going.

You watch Luna and Iris sit down and smile at them:

“What can I get you, ladies?”

They order cocktails; both of them are quite bitter in taste which surprises you especially from Lunafreya.

“Hey, you know all these people?” Lucian gasps when he notices the familiarity you interact with.

“W-Well, yes, I said Lady Lunafreya is my boss, didn’t I?” you look at him scornfully. “Anyways, this is Lady Lunafreya, Iris Amicitia and her brother Gladiolus,” you quickly introduce them to Lucian. He knows who they are, but it’s better to make it official. “And this is Lucian, my friend. Actually, he’s one of the guys that got me and my friends out of Altissia.”

You originally planned to keep the names of your friends to yourself, but Lucian would spill the beans anyway. You notice everyone’s surprise and change in their faces. Especially Gladio’s wary expression turns into friendly one.

You watch all your friends as they start mingling and realise you’re smiling stupidly as you prepare drinks for the girls. Placing the cocktails in front of Lunafreya and Iris, you take a deep breath.

Maybe, just maybe, Lucian meeting Gladiolus won’t turn terrible. It’s already headed in right direction - Gladio has ordered Lucian a drink to show his appreciation for saving your behind.

While the pair of brutes drinks and gets friendly, you turn to Lunafreya and Iris.

“This is really good,” Lunafreya click’s her tongue, complimenting your cocktail. The bitter and sour taste of the alcoholic liquid feels really refreshing. You notice pink flush appear on her cheeks.

“I wouldn’t expect you to order something like that, Lady Luna,” you admit and take a sip from your half-empty beer glass.

“Ah, you know,” she waves her hand, “with Mr Scientia providing me with steady supplies of Tenebraean pastries, it’s important to clear my taste buds every once in a while.”

“Not fair, I wanted to bake something too,” Iris moans, “but whenever I bring Luna something, there’s already a plate full of Iggy’s creations.”

You chuckle at her reaction; it’s frankly really cute she’s so eager to show off her skills as well.

“I wouldn’t expect you to wear black either, Lady Luna,” you mention her black party dress. It’s almost as if they are twinning with Iris.

“Cool, right?! I picked the dress for her,” Iris grins. “There’s only so much white a girl can wear, and when it’s time to hit the bars, the fair maiden image can get in the way.” She twitches her eyebrows suggestively.

“Yeah, Iris is right,” Luna laughs and runs her hands over her dress which is tightly hugging her slim figure. “I guess that’s why Noctis asked Gladio to accompany us.”

“Thought so,” you giggle and glance at Gladiolus and Lucian. They are sitting a bit away from you, sharing cool stories. You’ve always admired Gladio for his ability to be friends with practically anyone from the get go.

“Listen, (Y/N),” Luna’s voice gently recaptures your attention. “We’ve received an invitation from Ms Coctura Arlund. It’s for the party to celebrate the grand reopening of the Mother of Pearl restaurant and hotel, maybe you’ve heard about it.”

“Guess what, Coctura asked to extend her invitation to you!” Iris smiles, hoping you’ll feel the same excitement as her.

You looked at Lunafreya in surprise, silently questioning her if it’s true. The Princess nods.

“Ms Coctura is really grateful for the work you’ve done during your visit,” she explains.

“You mean the visit before I nearly killed the King of Lucis?” you giggle and she chuckles at your comment.

“Exactly. It’s taking place next weekend. I know it’s a bit of short notice, but I would be honoured if you could join us,” Lunafreya smiles brightly and your cheeks immediately grow hot.

_A week before Gladio’s wedding, huh? I’ll get the chance to see the place before he exchanges his wedding vows with Silvana, huh?_

Your mind goes on a bitter rant, but Iris cuts it off quickly.

“Are you listening?” she asks you a bit too sternly for your liking, but it’s enough to shake your dark thoughts off.

“Y-Yeah, sorry. Just thinking,” you nod. “It is a bit sudden. I don’t even have dress to wear.”

You used to have a bunch of luxurious gowns to give off that ‘expensive courtesan’ vibe back in Altissia, but obviously those were the last thing on your mind when you were running for your life from that cursed place.

“Don’t worry, I’ll come up with something,” Iris smirks. “I believe I know your taste in clothing by now.”

Blinking at her, you open your mouth to make objections to her claim. You want to tell her that she can’t judge your taste in clothing by your taste in lingerie, but you decide to keep it to yourself. The mention of lingerie would surely lure attention of _those_ two.

Something else does, however.

“What? You’re invited to a party, (Y/N)?” Lucian asks merrily. You shrug helplessly and before you can say a word, he continues: “If you need a date, I’m willing to step in.”

You arch your eyebrows at him.

“You’re willing to?” repeating after him, you chuckle. “My dear friend, I’m not even sure if my boss is willing to give me a night off. I have a bar to tend to.”

“Oh,” he continues, “well, if he doesn’t, we could have a private party when your shift is over, what’chu say?”

There he comes, the flirt. You quickly remember the past, how things used to be in the Leville of Altissia. Back then, everything was about sex. Every little comment, every little mention. The air was damp with heavy sexual energy. You realise you’re zoning out, reverting slowly into your past self. In the corner of your eye you see Iris and Lunafreya blush at the scene.

“That’s a hard pass from me, Lucian,” you smile at him and support yourself with your hands against the bar.

“Is it really?” he leans closer. “You know I can afford it.”

_He’s really doing it, isn’t he! He’s trying to buy me, wow. I’m telling Silvana. Actually, I’m telling everything to everybody._

“No, dear friend, you can no longer afford it,” you pout at him. Hypnotising your friend with a very intensive glare, you almost _feel_ Gladio staring at you. His intense glare seeps into your bones. You know he wants to jump in and do something about the disrespect - it’s in his nature - but you’re absolutely positive you can handle this on your own and with grace. You’ve been through this countless times.

“Come on, won’t you give me a discount?” Lucian leans in even more, your noses are only a few inches apart now. “You used to love it.”

“Hey, mind your manners,” Gladio suddenly raises his voice, but you swiftly lift your hand to stop him. The dark haired man swallows his curses and sits back, and you slowly move your hand towards Lucian’s face. Caressing his jaw sensually, you capture his chin with your slender fingers, pressing your thumb against it hard.

“My dear, dear Lucian, I don’t have to remind you what I did to the last guy who felt entitled to my body just because he could make me come a few times, do I?” you say in a voice as sweet as it is poisonous. Somewhere in the background noise you hear Iris gasp at your proclamation.

“No, you don’t,” Lucian gulps nervously and you pat his cheek; not enough to qualify as a slap, but it’s not a caress either.

“Good boy,” your smile quickly turns into a grin and he happily mirrors it, letting everyone else know you’ve both had your share of enjoyment over this little exchange.

“Gods, I’m so happy you haven’t changed,” Lucian roars and finishes his glass of whiskey.

You offer him a refill and that’s when you notice Gladio’s intense gaze. It throws you off balance a little. His eyes are borderline disappointed, as he observes the woman Lucian has just flirted with, desperately trying to find the girl he used to know in her - in you.

“May I?” you ask him softly, refilling his empty glass before he even replies.

“Thanks,” he mutters, his eyes never leaving your face. It’s enough to make your cheeks flush. Lucian watches you two and smirks for himself.

“Well, well.”

Deciding it’s for the best you leave the men alone, you return to Iris and Lunafreya.

“I’m sorry about that,” you sigh and ask them if they want something else.

“That was kinda sexy,” Iris winks at you, as if what she’s just witnessed had some kind of importance.

“So you were involved with Lucian?” Lunafreya asks directly, but her voice is quiet enough to let only you and Iris hear her words.

“I wouldn’t say involved,” you shake your head. “He was the same thing he’s now - a paying customer. One of the nicest ones, mind you,” you explain simply.

“Isn’t it a waste?” Iris wonders. “You have great chemistry together.”

You wink at her, trying to get her point. It seems she’s trying to push you into some sort of involvement with that guy.

“We’re just very good friends. We always joke like that around each other,” you smile at her, even though you know you’re both very serious. Especially Lucian wouldn’t mind jumping into bed with you given the chance. “To be honest, I think I might have developed misandry to certain degree due to previous experiences.”

“Come on, it won’t be that bad,” Lunafreya comforts you. “You’ve been through a lot. It will take some time to adjust.” She reaches over the bar and squeezes your hand.

“I guess so, at times I find myself completely baffled when I realise there are actually decent men around,” you try to downplay your statement with a joke.

Looking at your watch, you find out it’s nearly end of your shift. You excuse yourself to take last set of orders so the customers have all they need before your boss comes and takes over.

When Mr. Richard arrives twenty minutes later, he’s pleased to find his bar and customers taken care off.

“I see we have a bunch of lovely visitors tonight,” Richard grins at you and nods at two young women at the bar. “How did it go today?” he asks as he puts on his black apron.

“Everything went fine,” you smile and ask him about your weekend shift, explaining it was The Princess herself who passed on the invitation to you and it would be rude to reject her.

“We’ll figure something out, alright? Don’t worry, you’ll be able to go,” he promises and after thanking him, you turn to your friends.

“I’ll be on my way, then. Enjoy the rest of the night,” you say goodnight to everybody.

“You won’t be joining us?” Iris frowns in disappointment.

“Sorry, not today. I’m really tired,” you apologise sincerely.

“Heh, the only thing you did today was refilling first aid kits,” Luna calls you out - alcohol in her cocktail is obviously working and it’s amusing. You catch on quickly.

“Sssh, not so loud, or boss asks me to stay overtime,” you hiss and giggle at her comment.

“Oh, just go already,” Iris shoos you away and winks at you.

Wishing them good night again, you look at the table in the corner of the bar. Gladiolus and Lucian moved there a while ago, each of them has a bottle of whiskey in front of them and they discuss something.

“Guys, good night!” you wave at them.

“What? Leaving already?” Lucian moans. Gladio just looks in your direction.

“Yep, leaving already,” you repeat helplessly and shrug.

“Are you sure you don’t want my company tonight?” Lucian purrs suggestively. “I’ll pay double!”

“Sure, wait, I’ll just get my scalpel!” you grin at him and he bursts out in laughter.

“You’re wicked. Just fuck off already, you witch!” he slaps his knee.

“Be good!” you shake your finger at him to warn him, wave at them both, paying very little attention to Gladio, and disappear in the back of the bar. All you can do is pray that Lucian will shut up about Silviana, but you know the more alcohol he drinks the more likely it is for him to brag about his hot ex-fiancée. You leave the bar trying to persuade yourself that whatever happens has no bearing on your everyday life.

*

The greatest thing about these short evening shifts is your early return home. Now that the walls are freshly painted, you don’t mind spending time at your place that much, although you still believe some kind of fridge would make it feel even cosier.

Getting home before eleven o’clock, you snack on a Duscaen orange, take a shower and grab a medical book you’ve borrowed from the hospital, because it’s never a bad idea to refresh your memory. If nothing else, there’s a good chance it will help you sleep more easily.

Around midnight, as you lie in your bed in shorts and an oversized t-shirt, you’re already yawning and letters in the textbook melt into illegible mess. You know it’s time to go to bed. Placing the book on a wooden box you use as a bedside table, you turn the lamp off and wiggle around on the mattress to find a comfortable position to sleep in.

It’s at the moment your consciousness starts drifting away when you’re violently awaken by a loud banging on the door.

“S-Shit!” you squeak, the loud noise scaring you to death. Sitting up on your bed, you turn on the lamp on the bedside table and stare across your room at the door with the stupid padlock.

It’s quiet. Maybe it was just your imagination?

_Let’s ignore it… N-No, maybe I should check it. I should be able to see through the crack around the door._

Getting out of the bed, you grab the large spanner, which lays ever ready for your leaking toilet on a small table in the middle of the room. Better be safe than sorry. You start creeping towards the door so slowly you could come to stop any second.

 _Bang_!

“Eeek!” you shriek again, not because you’re scared but because of the shock. Who the hell annoys you this late at night?

“Open the door, I know you’re up,” you hear a grunt that’s very well known to you.

“G-Gladio?” you gasp, dropping the spanner on the floor with a loud thud, and hurry to the door to unlock them.

Opening the door so quickly they almost hit the wall, you stare into the darkness of the corridor. The light of your bedside lamp doesn’t illuminate the space enough to see him properly, but it’s indeed Gladiolus Amicitia.

“What the hell are you doing here at this hour?!” you scold him in whisper so you don’t disturb your neighbours.

“Hey, uh,” he mutters. He’s drunk - the cloud of alcohol vapours that’s arrived with him tells you that much - but it’s not enough to affect his speech. “Can I stay overnight?” he squeezes the question out of his lungs and you feel your own chest tighten.

“W-What?” you stutter as your knees grow weaker.

_Something’s happened._

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, and please accept my apologies for another annoying cliffhanger. This chapter was slow to get out, I've been dealing with migraines past few days and can't stay in front of pc too long.
> 
> Poor little MC can't get no slack with her friends. Some part of me actually want her to go and just tell Iris or Gladio about Silvana being shady, heh. What do you think? 
> 
> Thank you for your comments and kudos :D
> 
> PS: I've been hugely inspired by Dishonored 2 game when it comes to Lucian's 'blasphemous cursing'.


	12. Only If for a Night

The unexpected twist of events leaves your thoughts in turmoil. You gawk at Gladiolus Amicitia who somehow materialised at your doorstep in the dead of the night, and try to make some sense of his sudden visit.

“W-What you mean, stay overnight?” you repeat after him in disbelief.

He’s silent, just standing there in the doorway like some kind of ghost, or maybe a statue. Gritting your teeth, you grab him by his right wrist and pull him inside as you notice muffled complaining for the apartment opposite of yours.

“What happened?” you bark at him when you close the door and when you look at him properly in the light, a surprised gasp escapes you.

His right eye is swollen and there’s an inch long and somewhat wide cut on his right eyebrow. There’s also a similar yet much bigger injury on his left forearm.

Not even the look of horror on your face makes him talk. He just keeps standing there. It’s pretty obvious he didn’t really prepare for this whole scenario in his head beforehand.

“Gladiolus Amicitia, answer me immediately!” you poke his chest. Your blood is pulsing in your temples and you feel your heart racing due to all the stress.

“Silvana dumped me,” he mutters almost too silently for you to hear.

“What?” you frown at him, the stress slowly crystallising into rage.

“She dumped me so I’m here,” he says louder. In two steps you’re back by the door and open them again.

“Out!” you hiss at him spontaneously. You realise you’re acting on impulse. You’ve always been a bit hot headed - especially in unexpected situations like this one. You really should calm down, give him a chance and listen to what he has to say, but it’s just so hard right now as all words lose their meanings when you’re running on rage. What does he even mean?

“You’d kick me out, just like that?” he growls, but there’s no sign of anger in his voice. He sounds disappointed and kind of hurt.

“Of course I would!” you hiss quietly, hoping your neighbours let this scene slide. “Who do you think I am? Your safe haven ready to accept you when your chick kicks you out of her life? I’m not doing this rebound business!”

Your chest hurts from your violent breathing. Something about his statement drives you nuts. _I’m no one’s second option_ , you hear your own voice repeat in your head like it’s some kind of mantra.

“What?” he frowns and immediately hisses due to the wound on his eyebrow. “It’s not like that. I just need a place to sleep, ok?” he defends himself.

“There are plenty places to sleep! The hotel, Prompto’s couch, the Crownsguard barracks, the hell - even the hospital could be viable option given your injuries, yet you march in here like it’s nobody’s business? Are you even serious?”

“(Y/N), please,” he groans, closing his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck. His head hurts so badly and your yapping doesn’t help it one bit.

You glare at him, waiting for him to walk out of your apartment, but all he does is just stand there, looking like an oversized puppy of one of those extremely huge breeds of dogs, and it makes you feel like you’re trying to kick it out of your cosy place while it’s raining cats and dogs outside.

You’ve always had a soft spot for hurt creatures, there’s no denying it. Your defences crumble like a sand castle in high tide.

_Dammit._

Closing the door and turning the ceiling light on, you stomp closer to him.

“You’re sleeping on the floor, understand?” you growl and gently grab his right hand, pulling him towards the table. “Sit down,” you order him as you move a chair closer.

“… Thanks,” he mumbles, quite surprised it was so easy to persuade you. You still frown like a daemon as you walk away and start digging through your wardrobe. “What are you doing?” he asks into the silence of the room.

“I need to do something about your injuries, I don’t want your blood on my floor,” you explain and pull out a bag you’re keeping all your supplies in.

“What’s an extra stain or two,” he snorts, perking up a little. You frown at him even more. You’re aware your floor could use a new carpet, but that’s not the point.

“I’ll kick you out, I swear!” you warn him and poke his shoulder rather violently.

“Ok, I’ll shut up,” he promises. You give him a ‘you’d better’ look and take some disinfectant and a few packages of gauze from your bag. Taking a deep breath, you try to calm down. Adrenaline levels in your blood slowly drop and your breathing gets even again. Realising you’ve just had some sort of panic attack, you completely recollect yourself.

Shoving his chin up and towards the light, you carefully clean the cut on Gladio’s eyebrow. The black eye on the right side swells so much he can hardly open his eyelids, but the eye itself seems fine.

“Not good,” you sigh, removing the bloody gauze, “it’s too wide, I need to stitch it together.” He murmurs something inaudibly as you look for the correct size of needle and thread. “I’ll try suturing it as best as I can, just don’t wiggle too much, ok?” you say as you lean in with a half-moon shaped needle.

As the sharp point of the medical instrument enters his skin, he hisses a little, but stays still. You want to praise him for staying silent so you can do your job, but he mumbles suddenly:

“Aren’t you asking me how I got the black eye?”

“Why would I? It was Lucian, right?” you sneer calmly, your attention fixed on his thick eyebrow and those small, neat stitches you’re creating with your nimble fingers.

“Yeah…”

“To be honest, I expected that to happen when you started draining those whiskey bottles. He can be very impulsive,” you make excuses on your friend’s behalf. “I knew he’d try to mangle you as soon as he learns about you and Silvana.”

He jerks so violently it yanks the needle off your fingers, making it dangle on a thread from his eyebrow.

“Hey!” you squeak and try to steady him by pressing on his shoulders. “I said don’t wiggle!”

“What you mean, about me and Silvana?” he grunts and looks at you, his eyes eager for answers.

_Shit, did I mess up?_

“Uh, didn’t you get in the fight with Lucian because of Silvana?” you say nervously, grab the needle again and hold his face so you can continue.

“Umm, no?” he growls into the palm of your hand.

“Oh.”

“You mean HE is the guy she dumped me for?” he raises his voice. You feel his tension rising and your hands start to shake a little. Angry men scare you the most.

“C-Calm down,” you stutter and cease suturing his wound to stop your hand from shaking.

Gladiolus sighs and clenches his fist.

“You knew about it, didn’t you,” he mutters grumpily and you try your best to ignore the stinkiest of stink eyes he gives you.

“I did,” you admit slowly and drive the needle through his eyebrow again.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks urgently. As if it could change anything…

“Why would I?” you shrug calmly. “Lucian is my friend and I wouldn’t rat Silvana out, you know? For the record, I didn’t tell Lucian either. I didn’t want to be called a killjoy again,” You look into his eyes. You can tell he wanted to complain that you should have told him because of the good old times, but he seems to have calmed down after finding out Lucian had no clue either.

“How… did you find out?” he continues with his questioning.

For a brief moment you wonder if you should tell him, but he seems quite accepting at this point.

“One night he appeared in the bar during my shift. I asked what’s he doing in Lestallum and he explained he’s meeting Silvana, his ex-fiancée from before the Long night. He was hoping to reconnect. She arrived and it was like seeing an old acquaintance because we’d heard about her so much back in Altissia. They talked for a while and then started making out all of a sudden,” you smirk. “I was happy for them, but I couldn’t let them have sex in front of everybody, right? Well, later I learned she was your fiancée and I just… kept it to myself.”

Gladiolus holds his gaze on you. There’s something bothering him about the way you relay their story, and he even knows what it is. That careless, unbothered way you speak about it, that’s what. He wishes you were more _engaged_.

“I can’t believe I got cucked by that asshole,” he growls like a behemoth as you finish suturing his eyebrow.

“Come on, don’t call him that. He’s my friend,” you remind him for a hundredth time and move your attention to the nasty cut on his forearm.

“How can you be friends with a dickhead like him?” Gladio scowls at you.

“The dickhead saved my life, so…,” you object and shrug helplessly. “And, he’s always treated me with respect and kindness,” you add, because you feel the need to. It’s important to give credit where it’s due after all. Gladio might not realise it, but those two properties of human nature where extremely rare in Altissia.

“With respect? Him?” he laughs at you, completely disregarding what you’ve just said.

You stand up, straightening your back, and stare at him curiously. You wonder where he is coming from, since he’s learned about Lucian and Silvana just now. Those two men seemed to be on really good terms when you were leaving the bar.

“Why exactly did you get in a fight with him?” you ask him sternly, your left eye narrowed into a tiny slit.

Gladio grunts and looks away. It almost feels like he’s blushing, but you know you’re probably mistaken - the lighting in the room isn’t the best.

“He was saying some shit about you,” he admits quietly. You arch your eyebrows and wait for him to continue. “I warned him, but he wouldn’t shut up,” he pouts.

“What exactly did he say?” you pry further, your curiosity tingling. You feel like a mother trying to make a child tell the truth.

“He just… talked about things you did with him in bed. How it felt and such,” he finally says.

“Oh,” you let out obliviously. “He likes to talk about it when he gets drunk, yeah,” you admit, “but it’s not a reason to get in a fight. Go on, I know there’s more. You can’t be _that_ petty.”

Gladiolus keeps his mouth shut. You just sigh and keep cleaning his wound.

“He said I could try seducing you, claiming I was your type or something. He also said he would fuck you silly if he wasn’t ‘taken’, that bastard.” His words slowly roll out of his mouth as he reluctantly answers your questions. You glance at him and grin.

“Yeah, I remember describing you when he asked me what type of guy I liked,” you giggle. “You’re the only ‘type’ I ever had, so I just went with it.”

Gladiolus looks up and gazes at you, carefully thinking about your words. Your insignificant confession tugs at his heartstrings as he remembers how naïve and romantic you used to be.

“Well, I told him you used to be my girl and he started laughing at me, calling me a limp dick and a loser,” he snarls as if it is somehow your fault. And, as you quickly realise, it actually might be.

“I remember telling him I’d been more or less a virgin before I started selling myself; that I’d never gone all the way with my ex,” you confess quietly and pull a new thread through the suturing needle to stitch the other cut as well.

You know he’s watching your face very closely and impatiently, but you try to push it out of you mind as much as you can.

“Come on, relax your hand. How can I stitch it if you keep flexing your damn muscle like some macho?” you babble out and pinch his skin. To your pleasant surprise he listens and relaxes his forearm on the table.

You get down to suturing and your thoughts start to roam. They decide to go to your friend Lucian and you wonder what happened to him after the fight.

“So, basically, he laughed at you and you hit him first?” you realise it was most likely Gladiolus who started, it had to be.

“Yeah, I punched him and he threw a chair at me. The rest--,” he heaves and rubs his chin, “--I don’t really know. I’m just glad Lady Luna and Iris were already gone.”

“What?” you gasp and glare at him. “How big the fight really was?” you ask him in horror.

“I’ll… have to reimburse your boss for the damages,” he just moans and you start fighting the urge to shove the needle up his nose.

“Are you serious?” you shake your head. “I thought you were an adult.”

“He really pissed me off,” he croaked like an old frog, as if it could pass as an excuse for his actions. “Hitting me where it really hurts, you know?”

Your glance drops to his lap as you try to figure out what part of him he’s referring to. At first it doesn’t really occur to you he could be talking about his feelings.

“And where does it really hurt?” you ask him carelessly. The only answer you receive is another moment of silence. It’s long enough for you to finish stitching his forearm. With a simple ‘done’ you cut the rest of the thread and walk to the sink to disinfect the needle.

His eyes never leave your figure, you’re painfully aware of it, but you choose to ignore it. Your thoughts start twirling, analysing everything you’ve learned, trying to imagine what will happen from now on. The cancellation of his wedding, all the inconvenience for all kinds of people, all the ruined business opportunities for the Mother of Pearl… All the stress born from this makes you feel a bit sick.

Keeping your mouth shut about the cheating was a good call. You’d feel terrible if all that was happening because you told Gladiolus what you knew about Silvana.

“Hey, (Y/N),” he mutters, capturing your attention. When he’s sure you’re looking at him, he says quietly: “I should have fucked you when I had the chance.”

You freeze and drop the bag with your medical supplies on the floor.

_Now who’s disrespectful!_

As your brain tries to chew on his bold statement, you get on your knees to pick your bag off the floor. You wonder if he meant to say he regretted it’d never happened or something. Gritting your teeth, you realise it doesn’t matter to you anyway.

“So it was your insecurity that Lucian hit, wasn’t it,” you sneer cynically. “Well, I suppose you’re right, you should have done it,” you admit and walk to the door to turn the ceiling light off. “At least I’d have a comparison to decide whether Silvana was justified in leaving you for Lucian.”

“What?” you frowns as much as his stitched eyebrow allows him.

“I mean,” you throw your hands up, “Lucian fucks like Ifrit set his ass on fire, so…”

Gladio opens his mouth to argue, but ends up saying nothing. He dips his head a little and you decide to leave him alone. You’re quite sure you could hurt his ego even further, but why bother? It wouldn’t help you deal with your own issues and regrets.

“You can use the shower if you want. You’ll have to use my towel though, I don’t own any extras.” Your tone reverts back to friendly and caring one. Getting a quilted duvet and an extra pillow from your wardrobe, you place them on the table in front of him. “I’ll go back to bed if you don’t mind,” you smile at him, and even though he’s not looking at you, you know your smile will be heard in your voice.

Yawning, you walk past him, ready to plop into bed. You need some time in silence to sort out your thoughts, hoping his presence within these four walls won’t be too distracting. Joke’s on you, it already is rather distracting. His musky scent mixed with alcohol fills the room and it’s almost suffocating - it makes your imagination run wild.

“Hey,” he murmurs, catches your hand and pulls you closer to him, effortlessly seating you onto his lap, your back facing his chest.

“G-Gladio, no,” you whine and try to get off, but he squeezes you in his arms, hugging you from behind. Something tickles the shell of your ear - it’s his beard. Squirming, you wish he’d just let you go.

“Give me a second, I beg you,” he murmurs into your right ear. In response, your legs and arms cover with goose bumps and your body grows completely stiff. For a second you contemplate burying your nails into his stitched wound as means of self defence, but his whispered plea makes you stop and allow him to have his way just this once.

You have no idea how long it takes, but you feel him nuzzle the scarred side of his face to your hair. Your blood pressure and heart beat is all over the place, as if you body couldn’t decide if it wants to relax in his embrace, or kick-start the fight or flight response.

“I had no chance to welcome you back properly,” he explains lazily and squeezes you a bit harder. “But now you shouldn’t complain, right? Silvana is out of the picture,” he moans and rubs a patch of scarred tissue on your thigh with his thumb. Of course he’s noticed the scars on your legs, who wouldn’t? You were prancing around him in hardly more than your panties.

“W-What? Do you really think I’ll hop on your dick as soon as your fiancée leaves you?” you puff, getting annoyed again. He stoops to teasing you a little.

“Well, you’re already sitting on it, so…,” he smirks, burying his nose into your hair and taking in the scent of your shampoo.

“That’s enough,” you whine and start to struggle against the cage of his strong arms again. Letting out a defeated sigh, he lets you go and you lurch yourself towards your bed.

Gladio watches you crawl under your blanket and curl up like a tiny kitten. His throat gets immediately dry and his stomach tightens - it feels like he’s fucked up, betrayed your fragile trust.

“Hey, sorry about that,” he murmurs and gets off the chair. Taking the things you’ve left on the table, he walks as close to your bed as he can without you bitching at him - he knows you’re watching. You might pretend to ignore him, but he feels your eyes on him, carefully judging the distance between the two of you. He gets as close as three feet to the bedside before you stir under your blanket. Dropping the pillow, the quilted duvet, and his body on the floor, he rearranges them all into a formation that makes sense for sleeping.

“Mind the stitches, ok?” you hum quietly, the strain in your voice faded into nothing once again. “I don’t want to redo them in the morning.”

“It’ll be fine, those are damn good stitches,” he laughs quietly as you turn off the lamp on your makeshift bedside table.

“Thanks, I had many chances to practise,” you giggle into the darkness of your room.

“Meaning…?”

“Meaning what I’ve just said,” you say evasively. You can’t believe he’s staying the night. There’s a weird sense of giddiness taking hold of you, like you’re completely drunk and the world is spinning around you. It’s his fault, all of it.

“And the scars on your legs?” he asks something you hoped would stay unspoken. The multiple small and bigger cuts on your legs were like the elephant in the room. Of course, you’d never let him see them, but you didn’t exactly expect him to visit.

“Those are the many chances to practice,” you just moan, not getting into the finer details and stories behind each of the scars. It’s more than he needs to know anyway.

Rustle of his duvet makes you aware he’s sat up on the floor. You know he’s gazing at you, you can even see him as your left eye is getting used to the darkness, but you absolutely refuse to tell him more.

“Listen, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he apologises suddenly, making your healthy eye widen with surprise. “I shouldn’t have grabbed you, but I wanted to do it so much since the moment I saw you at the bar,” Gladio says in a defeated voice. “I nearly shat myself when I realised it’s really you and you’re still alive.”

Your chest tightens and you burst out laughing at his words.

“Shat yourself?” you repeat and slap the mattress. “Aren’t you so romantic! I thought you were smoother than this!”

“S-Sorry,” he babbles out and eventually finds comfort in your cheer. “I guess I’m losing my touch,” he sighs and drops his body back on the floor.

“Aging is terrible, right?” you chuckle and lie on your back. Staring at the dark ceiling, you gather courage to ask. “So, why are you really here?” you utter a question that’s been bugging you for a while now.

“Silvana asked for some space. She’s probably packing her stuff now,” he explains calmly. You take in a deep breath to ask further, but he continues: “That’s the long and the short of it.”

You hum, doubting his words but unwilling to delve deeper into his reasons.

“Good night,” you yawn sleepily, close your eyes and hope you’ll be able to fall asleep fast.

*

You do fall asleep very quickly, but what comes next ruins it all for you. Once again, you’re thrown into a whirlpool of nightmares, bad memories and pain. It’s almost three in the morning when you wake up panting, having a full-blown panic attack. Your t-shirt is drenched in cold sweat and you feel very, very nauseous.

_Shit, not now…_

Covering your mouth so you can give yourself a chance to hold it till you get to the toilet, you stumble out of your bed, trying to maneuver yourself around Gladio’s long legs without tripping over them.

As the bathroom door closes behind you and you drop down to your knees in front of the toilet bowl, you ask yourself why something like that has to happen right now, with that man around. Your whole body is shaking as you dread the possibility of having to explain to him what you’re going through. It’s not something you’re ready to share with anyone just yet and you’re not even sure if you’ll ever want to share it with people close to you.

As your body does its own thing and violent muscle cramping in your stomach area works on getting rid of what’s so nauseating, tears spring in the corners of your eyes. The whole process is so exhausting and torturous and you have no way to stop it. All you can do is to just wait it out, praying your stomach settles down faster than the last time. Whenever you think it’s getting better, another nasty cramp comes to make you feel a little more terrible.

Whining in pain, you feel so helpless and ridiculous as the mixture of drool and vomit drips off your lips. Trying to catch breath to brace yourself before yet another muscle spasm, you shudder in alarm when a huge hand rests between your shoulder blades and another cups your forehead for support.

Gasping in shock, your body goes completely rigid for a second. It’s like a defence mechanism of a small animal - freeze and play dead when in danger of getting killed by a predator.

“It’s alright, baby girl,” he coos in low voice and rubs your back with his warm hand in small circles. “Not gonna hurt you,” he promises and notices you slowly relaxing your stiff limbs. “There, there,” he caresses your back and you’re completely lost.

You knew he’d hear you. With so much noise you were making it would be very unlikely if he just slept through it all, but you’d never expect him to follow you into the bathroom and support your forehead for you as your damn stomach rages on. Oh, the embarrassment! Normally, you’d never allow him to see this disgusting scene, to see you all weak and pathetic, crying like a little child and moaning in pain and frustration.

But it’s too late for that now. He’s here, patiently humming words of comfort as your upset stomach slowly settles down. You’d never allow this and you’d never know how much you really needed it either. As your loud whining turns into quiet sobs and you sit back on the floor tiles, you feel totally spent.

Gladio wipes your wet lips with the back of his hand and flushes the toilet. You’d like to avoid direct eye contact, but something makes you look at him. Your heart is crushed under the weight of your emotions. He frowns a little, his eyes fixed on your face and his lips pressed together in a serious grimace.

“Better?” he asks cautiously, studying your face for any sign of discomfort and pain.

“Y-Yeah, thanks,” you utter and hold his hand that cupped your forehead for continued support all that time.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, alright?” he smiles, gets up and helps you on your legs.

You’re in daze and next few minutes are a messy blur. You know you’ve washed your face and brushed your teeth to get rid of the nasty aftertaste, Gladio leaves you to take a quick shower to wash down the sweat and eventually his stretched arm - and only his arms - appears through the crack in the bathroom door, holding out another shirt you often use for sleeping. You want to question him if he dug through your wardrobe, but leave it alone.

“Would you like a glass of water? You should drink something,” he comments when you leave the bathroom. He’s standing by the kitchen unit and searches through your medical supplies. “You don’t have anything against nausea?” he complains as he reads labels of various pills.

“When did you become a doctor?” you grin and slowly approach him.

“Come on, I don’t have to be a doctor to do something like that,” he smirks at you. “I’ve seen Ignis take care of Prompto once.”

Imagining Ignis holding Prompto’s forehead and rubbing his back just like Gladio did for you, you take a glass and fill it with some water.

“T-Thanks, it really helped,” you bashfully try to convey your gratitude, but it goes beyond what you can express with words. You feel refreshed and full of kind, pleasant warmth.

“It’s no big deal,” he shakes his head and watches you as you take small sips of water. “Are you sure you don’t need any meds for the stomach?” he asks eventually when you grow too quiet.

“It’s not the stomach, it’s in here,” you reply and tap your left temple.

“The nightmares, right?” he mumbles and leans against the kitchen unit once you nod. “Does it happen often?”

Finishing your glass of water, you sigh. You were so against telling him the truth, yet here you are, ready to tell him as if it’s something completely natural. It _feels_ natural. He’s witnessed it after all, so he has the right to know, right?

“I have nightmares very often,” you admit quietly, “but luckily my stomach isn’t always that bad. Once in a week or two, maybe?” Shrugging dismissively, you wash the glass and leave it in the dish drainer.

“That’s too often,” he growls and follows you back to bed. He sits on the floor as he watches you crawl onto your mattress. “Are you sure you don’t need anything else?” Gladio asks insistently.

“I’m sure,” you chuckle at his kindness. “I know it looked terrible, but it’s just nausea. You should worry about yourself and what you’re gonna tell everyone about that Silvana business and your black eye.”

“Don’t remind me, I don’t wanna think about it now,” he growls and fluffs his pillow with a few slaps of his large hand.

“Well, what do you wanna do now?” giggling, you find a comfortable position on your bed again.

Gladio just sits there on the floor and stares in your direction speechlessly. What was that challenging tone in your voice? Could it be his imagination? Maybe you’re just toying with him again.

“I have an idea,” he growls, crawls to your bed and scoops you off the mattress along with your blanket.

“G-Gladio?” you squeak like a mouse. His unexpected actions catch you unprepared as he carefully places you on the floor right next to him.

“Don’t worry, I’m not doing anything,” he murmurs, leaning down to you and once again burying his nose into your hair. He lazily tucks you in with your blanket and then pulls you closer to his chest.

“G-Gladio, I said I’m not doing it,” you protest quietly, not quite sure what you should expect from this all. You suspect he’s still a bit drunk, but you know very well that he’s very resistant to booze.

“Not doing what?” he asks and embraces you with his arm.

“S-Sleeping with you. I’m not doing it,” you repeat nervously, trying to keep the shivering of your hands and back untraceable.

“Huh?” he chokes for a second. “Is everything about sex for you now?” he fusses critically and brushes your hair off your face.

“I-Isn’t everything always about sex?” you mutter and turn to your side, facing his large frame.

“It’s not,” he snorts and waits as you find a comfortable position.

“…Says the guy with the biggest dick on Eos, probably,” you scowl and rest your head on his shoulder.

“You’re flattering me, babe,” Gladio chuckles happily. He can’t believe you’re actually going with the flow, snuggling with him so innocently. It’s a huge difference from your previous struggle against his squeeze when he made you sit on his lap.

“How would I know? I’m just guessing,” you murmur and yawn. The warmth of his body is soothing and cradling you to sleep.

“You know what?” he smirks, “you may be right.”

Snorting into his tattooed skin, you want to tell him he’s full of shit, but you can’t. You’re swept by such a strong wave of emotions it’s almost too much to hide. Your shoulders shake a little and tears start pooling in the corners of your eyes again. Luckily, you manage to keep them in check. All you can do is embrace his chest shyly and relax in this temporary bliss.

“Sleep tight, baby girl.”

Gladio purrs into your ear and caresses the small of your back. From there it’s only a few steps into a deep slumber. Before you know it, you’re nodding off in the arms of a man that used to be your whole world.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been 84 years... 
> 
> I know, and I'm sorry :/ Shame on me for ending the last chapter on such a cliffhanger and then disappearing. I blame winter depression mixed with the whole global situation and Genshin Impact. (Yes I know...)
> 
> I really hope this chapter was somewhat worth the wait! It was awesome to write it, but it was a bit difficult too. Poor MC can't seem to decide if she wants to care or not. Ah well. 
> 
> I'm not saying I'm back on track, but I'm nowhere near abandoning this story, because I love writing it :) Thank you for your support and comments!


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